Key to Love (19 page)

With quick, creative strokes she shaded an area around his eyes and mouth in white eyeliner and then lined the perimeters with a dark blue liner. His nose became a colorful blob of red, and two more rosy spots accented each cheek. From her bedroom drawer, she dug out an old green sock hat she had worn in high school and had sentimentally refused to throw out. Rolling up the brim, she tugged it over his pale hair and turned him toward the mirror. Her efforts were rewarded with a high-pitched giggle.

“I
do
look like a clown,” he said, excitedly, sliding off the bench to stare at himself in the mirror. He twisted his little cherub face from side to side. His antics were endearing, and she felt a hollow spot in her heart tear open wider. Would she ever have a child of her own, she wondered, to share pure, uninhibited antics with?

“Yes, you do. Cindy will have to help you take the make-up off before you go to bed,” she instructed, smiling.

He nodded and looked at her with a sober expression, “Eee-lise, can you help me find Ranger?”

“Ranger, your beanbag dog?”

He nodded again dejectedly. “It has to be somewhere...maybe in all those boxes at the cottage.”

“I’ll tell you what, we’ll go out there together sometime this week and see if we can find it.”

The little boy brightened immediately. “Ee-lise,” his small fingers rested on her sleeve. “Are you a possum’s ability?”

She wrinkled her forehead
. Possum’s ability
? The child had used the same phrase the night she had met him. “I don’t understand.”

“Uncle Lucas said if we become a family, I won’t have a mother because there’s no one who’s a possum’s ability.”

“Ah-ha, I see.” Possibility? As a mother? Terrific, now the kid was going to rip out her heart straight through her rib cage. “I can’t be a possibility, Todd, because I don’t live here.”

“Are you going away?” His little voice cracked with disappointment.

“Not for a while, kiddo. Let’s not worry about it.” She stooped and bussed him lightly on the top of his head.

“Will you be home before I go to sleep?” A hopeful spark flickered in his eyes.

“I’m afraid not.” She squatted next to him and handed him the spaghetti he had abandoned on the counter in his excitement. “But I’ll check on you when I get in, and tomorrow morning you can tell me all about your first night in your new room. We’ll have breakfast together. Now go show Cindy, Fritz, and Uncle Lucas what you look like.”

He scampered away, and Elise gathered up her make-up and checked her watch. She wanted to be sure there was no delay in meeting Jack Morrison. The last thing she needed was any type of confrontation between Lucas and him.

With her purse slung over her shoulder, she headed for the hall stairs only to find Lucas propped against the doorframe of his room.

“Well, well, ready for the big date,” he drawled and sniffed the air. “And wearing another of good ol’ Chuck’s famous, sexy-scented waters. Cripes, the man must have bought out Bloomingdale’s.”

She halted, eyeing him as her stomach did a quick somersault. Even in his faded Levi’s and a worn blue tee-shirt, he was gloriously handsome. A six-foot-two specimen of lean muscle. “I thought you’d be returning Monique’s calls. What’s it been, five messages on the machine since yesterday?”

She tried to step around him, but he straightened his rock-hard body and blocked her path. She felt his smoky eyes take in every detail of her appearance.

“I thought you were just going to dinner,” he said.

She shrugged. “Afterwards, maybe dancing, maybe the Mohegan Sun Casino, maybe we’ll even try some country and western line dancing, who knows? I’ve never tried the two-step either.”

“Not in that get-up you won’t.”

She looked down at her jeans. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? Not an Oleg Cassini, but it’s got potential.”

“Too much potential. Even with the jacket on, that tank top is pushing respectability.”

“Come on, Lucas, it’s not. Would you tell me to change if you were taking me out?”

He grinned the kind of grin that made her heart slip clear into her matching red sandals. “Not on your life.”

“I rest my case.”

“But you’re not going out with me. You’re going out with sleazy Morrison.”

She shook her head wearily. “This Morrison thing is getting tiresome. I’m a grown woman, Lucas, and I’m going to be late.” She tried to push past him.

“Put a blouse on,” he instructed. His hands shot out and spun her around in the opposite direction. “This is not negotiable.”

She stared at him over her shoulder. She was beginning to feel herself losing control. Why did they always have the need to square off in opposite corners over every issue? “And if I don’t?”

“You’ll keep the scum bag waiting until you do.”

Biting back a burning desire to plow a fist into his hard gut, she whirled and stomped to her room. Tearing off the jacket, she removed a red silk blouse from her closet and jammed her arms into it, right over the tank top. Her hands shook with such fury she almost ripped off the buttons. Back in the hall, she faced him again.

“You are a total jerk. You need professional help! No, I take it back. You’re beyond even serious therapy.”

His hand came up to straighten her collar beneath the jacket. “Okay, so shoot me.”

“I’d consider it, but the time I’d spend explaining it to the police would hardly be worth the effort.” She paused, a slight smile on her lips. “Unless it was Ted Meyer, and then it would be pure heaven.”

That brought a quick response. His hand shot out, and he pulled her against his chest. “Admit, Ms. Springer, there’s chemistry between us. It’s tugging at me as much as it is at you.”

His head lowered to hers, but her fingers covered his lips to halt the kiss. “Listen, even if I were to admit there’s an attraction, this 007 agent isn’t letting you put me in any lip lock.”

“Why not?”

“Because it took me three tries to get this face and lipstick perfect, and you’re not ruining it.” She smiled and stepped around him, heading for the top of the stairs.

“Lizzie.” He halted her again.

“What now?”

“You did a great job on Todd’s room. The kid is ecstatic. I haven’t seen him giggle and laugh this much in weeks.”

She paused to search his face and saw unselfish warmth and affection in his eyes. The kid was getting to both of them. Big time. “It was fun, wasn’t it?” she asked and remembered how she had been caught with Lucas’s groping hands. She started for the steps, only to be halted a third time.

“Lizzie, be careful. Morrison might ask you a lot of questions. Don’t give him any more ammunition than necessary. I don’t know who we can trust.”

She sighed and clutched the handrail. “Lucas, I’m trying to
get
information, not give it out.” She hesitated a minute. “Do you really think Morrison might be involved?”

“I don’t know. I suspect he knows more than he lets on. He lied to you about not knowing Clarisse. I’d downplay any involvement with me.”

This time she laughed. “Lucas, I’m driving your thirty-five-thousand-dollar car. The man’s not particularly bright, but he’s not a complete dimwit either.”

“You’re driving a forty-five-thousand-dollar car. It’s loaded.” A smile made his ruggedly masculine face appear more angular and alluring. His gaze locked with hers. “He’s probably clueless. If he asks, tell him you’re still trying to decide if you want to buy it. Tell him anything. Tell him you’re test-driving it before you decide to lay down cash.”

He tossed his head toward her bedroom. “By the way, I saw the drawings on your desk for the center’s new showroom. The idea of a semi-circular display never crossed my mind. It’s brilliant.”

“Lucas, I can’t afford that car.”

“I didn’t expect you to buy it. I’m giving it to you.”

“Whoa, no way will I accept it as a gift.” Her emotions warred between being elated by his praise for her work and irritated he thought he could manipulate her with an expensive gift. She glanced at her watch. “I’m going to be late. Don’t forget to read Todd the new book I left on the bed. Please see if you can get him hooked on something new. If we read
The Fox and the Hound
one more time, we’re going to start barking. And you and I need to talk. First thing, tomorrow.”

“If you say so.” He slipped back into his old familiar self. “Make sure you’re home at a respectable hour, Ms. Springer. We don’t want the neighbors to gossip. Your reputation is at stake.”

Her reputation? Oh, how she longed to smack him alongside the head. Oh, how she ached to remind him he was the one who had gained notoriety countywide for his reckless behavior.

“Be a good boy, Lucas,” she replied instead. “And don’t wait up. It may be a long night.” She hurried down the stairs.

His response filtered down just as she reached the bottom step.

“It better not be.”

****

Elise hated to make assumptions about anyone, but with Jack Morrison, she decided to dismiss her long-standing rule. He had, by far, the most hideous wardrobe of any man who walked the face of the earth. With black slacks and a lagoon blue sweater over a plaid peach shirt, he looked like a walking box of Crayolas.

She jerked open the door to his white Mercedes and slid in as soon as he pulled into the drive, not wanting to be under the scrutiny of Lucas Fisher any longer than necessary.

“Am I late?” he asked with a worried frown.

“No, I’m starved.” She buckled her belt. “I thought we’d tackle some Italian food if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, why not?” His shoulders heaved in indifference.

She waited until he drove to the end of the lane, out of sight from the house, before she unbuckled her seat belt and shimmied out of her jacket. When she began to unbutton her blouse, she saw Jack Morrison watching her warily out of the corner of his eye.

“Now wait a second, Elise,” he choked out. The car swerved as he pulled onto the highway. “Don’t you think we should wait until
after
we eat?”

“Just drive, Jack! Be quiet and don’t say anything to tick me off tonight. I’ve run out of places to hide the bodies.” She yanked the blouse from her jeans and shrugged free, shoving the tank top back behind her belt. Then she grabbed her jacket and slipped it on. “I’ll be damned if I’m wearing what everyone thinks is appropriate for little Lizzie Springer.”

“Big brothers giving you a hard time, huh?”

“Something like that.” She repositioned herself in the bucket seat and ignored his chuckles.

“It looks like a party at your house.”

“Fritz is into the sauce again. Spaghetti, I mean.”

“That boy could always cook up a storm.”

“Yes, he could,” she agreed. Although the real storm, she thought, was inside the Springer residence and had no connection to spaghetti sauce.

“Whose new silver Vette?”

She started to say hers, then changed her mind. “I’m leasing it.” It wasn’t the truth, but it wasn’t a lie either. It was a trade off in the world of reality, she rationalized. Her showroom designs for the use of the car.

****

After they finished their meal at G’s Wood Grill and after Jack Morrison had given a blow-by-blow account of the last ten years of his life, the only valuable piece of information Elise had gleaned from the dinner date was the pasta and shrimp alfredo was the best in the area. When Jack suggested they hit the casino, she countered with Two Horses. He seemed reluctant at first, telling her it was a four-star dive, but she persisted until he finally relented.

She understood his uneasiness as soon as they entered the smoky, crowded interior. Decked out in a Death Valley theme, the hangout held everything from cactuses to cattle skulls, obviously all plastic renditions. The bar’s motley group of patrons consisted of bikers in black leathers with chain wallets and colorful tattoos, second-shift factory workers with no homing instincts, and young couples either fond of the kaleidoscopic atmosphere or in love with the western two-step.

A lengthy search led them to a table for four in the far back of the bar room, away from the vibrating dance floor and the band wearing Stetson hats and snakeskin boots and blaring out heartbreak music on steel guitars.

Elise looked around curiously in hopes of locating Clarisse.

“I told you this was a fiasco,” Jack grumbled and signaled to a cocktail server to no avail.

Across the room, two men ambled toward them. The taller one, wearing a brown leather bomber jacket, had a pleasant smile. His friend beside him, in a blue plaid shirt and engineer boots, grinned openly.

The leather-jacketed man spoke. “Mind if we share these seats? The place seems to have filled up fast tonight.”

Jack straightened in his seat and glowered. “Yes, I mind. Find your own damn table.”

Both men’s eyes narrowed and they glanced at each other, frowns on their faces.

“No, no, of course not.” Elise felt her pulse skitter and motioned to the vacant chairs. This was the wrong place to aggravate anyone, she thought. “Come on, Jack, the place is standing room only. We have two vacant chairs.”

The two men, obviously regulars, slumped down. They were barely seated when a server moved instantly toward them.