KILLER DATE (SCANDALS) (9 page)

The driveway on the left had a car parked on it, so I pulled into the driveway on the right, assuming that would be Jenny’s si
de.  She was still sleeping like the dead, so I looked through her key ring and picked the one that looked like a house key.  The porch light was on, but it was dark inside.  Luckily, the screen door was unlocked and the key fit into the lock on the front door and turned.  I opened it and reached inside to switch on the lights.

It was small, but neat and colorfully decorated.  I returned to the car and tried to wake Jenny up, but ended up gathering her into my arms. 
Her eyes didn’t open, but she wrapped her arms around my neck and snuggled her face into my chest.  The screen door had swung shut, so I had to juggle her so that I could reach the handle.  Once inside, I kicked the door shut behind me, then hesitated.  Should I leave her on the couch?  Should I make a pot of coffee and try to sober her up?  Should I just put her in her bed and let her sleep it off?

I decided on the latter.  She w
as feeling no pain, so a good night’s sleep was probably the best thing for her condition.  The first bedroom was cluttered with piles of books on the dresser and the desk.  Bright paintings hung on each wall.  The bed was unmade and clothes were draped over every piece of furniture.

Definitely Angela’s room.

I shut the door and moved do
wn the short hall, past the bathroom to the only other room.  The light from the hallway allowed me to see inside enough to be assured this was Jenny’s room.  Sparsely furnished, there was no clutter.  Instead of appearing stark, the soft yellow walls and bright multi-colored bedspread made the room look bright and cheerful.  I pulled back the spread and the sheet and eased her down on the twin bed.  She sighed, but didn’t stir.  I started to pull the sheet up, but stopped.  She would never wear her shoes in the bed. 

I moved to her feet.  As I slipped off the dressy stilettos she had been wearing, I realized they didn’t really fit.  She must have borrowed her sister’s shoes for tonight’s dinner.  I glanced over at the row of practical flats and low-heels that were lined on the bottom of her tiny closet.  It had no door, so I wasn’t really snooping when I saw how few clothes she had hanging in there.  I remembered how many articles of clothing were spread around Angela’s room, and it was clear where the division in funds went.

Well, maybe her sister running off with her boyfriend would turn out to be a blessing in disguise.  It would give Jenny a chance to look after herself for a change.

I pulled the sheet up over her and was just about leave when she reached out and caught my hand.  I had thought she was still asleep, but when I glanced back at her, I saw her eyelashes flutter open.

“Don’t go yet.”  Her voice was soft and a little groggy.

“I…uh…”

“I must have drank too much.  I’m so sorry.”  She struggled to sit up.  “I wanted tonight to be perfect.”

I didn’t want her to try to stand up, so I sat on the bed next to her. 
“There’s nothing to apologize for.  I had a great time.  Thanks for dinner, by the way.  I’m not used to being treated.”

“When you meet An
gie, you can thank her.”  Her smile was bittersweet.  “I’m still really mad at her.  But I’m so glad she’s okay.”

“Next date, I’m paying.”

She looked up at me shyly.  “Will there be a next date?”

“I hope so.”  And I really did.

“Then I’ve got to be a better hostess.  How about some coffee?”  She started to slide off the bed, but as she tried to stand, she swayed and fell against me.

I caught her and tried to pull her back down on the bed, but she landed on
my lap.

“I don’t know what happened,” she began.  “I’m just so dizzy.”

“Too much lemonade,” I suggested.  “Maybe it’s better if you just sit here for a minute.”

Her cheeks flushed as she looked up at me.  “I’m sure it will be safer.”

“I doubt that.”  My eyes burned into hers.  It had been building all evening and now, with her feminine curves pressed against me, my body reacted.  Her full red lips parted…I wasn’t sure if she was going to tell me to hit the road or to stay, but I didn’t wait to hear.  My hand cupped her face as I lowered my head until my mouth met hers.

It was meant to be just a quick kiss…just a taste of her sweetness.  But as soon as our lips pressed together, a jolt like an electric shock ran through me, heating my blood and making me want more.  Her arms wound around my neck, and she opened her mouth, encouraging me and responding with an eagerness that only increased my
rush of desire. 

I shifted until we were l
aying across her bed, face-to-face, our lips still locked together.  My erection bulged, and I tried to hold back so she wouldn’t discover how very turned on I was.  But she pressed closer and moved against me, slowly, sensuously.  Maybe it was something special about her or maybe I was just crazy horny, but I couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman more.

A niggling reminder that she had drank too much and might not be thinking clearly made me hesitate.  Plus, I didn’t want this to be a gratitude fuck.

“Jenny, maybe we’d better wait…”

“Make love to me,” she whispered.  “I want you
…now.”

Hell, I’d tried.

Her skirt had risen, and I could see the tempting lacy layer of her black panties.  I ran my fingertips over her bare thigh and her skin quivered beneath my touch.  I paused at the top of her thigh, waiting for that invisible signal that would tell me whether she wanted me to stop…or keep exploring. 

I got my answer when her hand moved to the buttons of my shirt and started unfastening them.  Once
loose, she ran her open palm across my chest and down my abdomen.  My breath sucked in as her finger ventured lower, tracing lightly along the top of my waistband.  My stomach muscles tightened and my erection pushed impatiently against the elastic band of my boxer briefs. 

I continued stroking upward until my hand slid between her legs and cupped her womanhood. 
Her wetness was soaking through the lace fabric and my finger gently rubbed the spot as she moaned her approval.

The next two minutes was a flurry of belt buckles, zippers and articles of clothing
being hastily removed and tossed on the floor.  In one quick snap of my fingers, I reached behind her, unclipped her bra and flung it aside.  Somehow we managed to rotate so we were lying lengthwise on the bed.  I wanted to pull back and look at her because what I had seen was spectacular.  Her body was trim and well-toned with beautiful legs and a flat stomach.  And her breasts…larger than I expected and 100% real…tasted delicious.  While my fingers slid inside that warm, moist feminine spot between her legs, my mouth focused on her breasts, moving from one to the other, licking, nibbling, suckling her pert nipples as she writhed beneath me.  Her fingers were buried in my hair with her nails occasionally digging into my scalp.  That’s how I knew I was doing it right.

My own excitement level was off the charts.  I was trying really hard to hold off until I was sure she was ready.  Not physically, because I could tell by the flow of juices over my fingers that she was more than turned on.  It was that we had just met yesterday and tonight she had ingested too much alcohol.  As much as I wanted to fuck her brains out right now, I didn’t want her to regret it as soon as I left.

“Jenny...,” I
whispered as I lifted my head so I could look into her eyes.  “We can wait…”

Her hand slid down my stomach and wrapped around my dick. Slowly, she stroked it all the way down the shaft, then back up.  “I’ve waited long enough.”

I hadn’t thought it possible, but I felt myself swelling in her grasp.  Before I exploded, I wanted to be inside her.  I moved so that I was over her.  Her hand moved to grasp my ass as if trying to urge me forward…and inside her.  My arms were shaking as I braced myself over her.  Slowly, I nudged between her legs…

The doorbell rang.  Not once or twice, but constantly as if it was stuck.  Jenny and I both jumped at the unexpected noise. 

We simultaneously glanced at her alarm clock and saw it was almost midnight. 

“Are you expecting someone?” I asked
as I partially rolled off of her.

She shook her head.  “No, it must be someone who got the address mixed up.”

The doorbell stopped ringing. 

“See, they must have realized their mistake.”  She leaned up and kissed my chest, then
playfully bit my nipple.  That was all it took for me to forget the doorbell.  I resumed my position on top of her and was about to ease into her when there was a loud pounding on the front door, followed by a heavy thud.

Jenny and I exchanged exasperated look
s.  With an apologetic smile, she said, “I’ve got to see who it is.”

The mood was broken anyway. 
We slid off the bed and scrambled to put our clothes back on.  There was something about the moments after sex…or after near-sex…when you’re dressing to leave that are always awkward.  This was worse than most.  Jenny’s cheeks burned bright red as she pulled her dress on and struggled with the zipper.  I already had my pants on, so I stepped behind her and pushed her hands away so I could pull up her zipper.  I put my shirt on but didn’t bother buttoning it and stuffed my shorts and socks into my pocket.  I picked up my shoes, and both of us were barefoot as we left the bedroom and walked to the front door.  I considered hanging back in case it was someone she wouldn’t want to see me, but at this time of night, I felt it was important that whoever it was knew she wasn’t alone and vulnerable.  I realized, belatedly, that I hadn’t locked the door when I carried her in.  That probably meant it wasn’t a burglar or he would have simply opened the door and not rang the bell.

She peered through the peephole, then glanced back at me and shrugged.
“I don’t see anyone.” Slowly, she opened the door inch-by-inch, then suddenly swung it wide.

There, crumbled on the threshold, pressed against the screen door was the half-naked body of a man who had been badly beaten.  Streaks of blood oozed through the screen where he had been leaning and blood pumped from what appeared to be a bullet wound in his
right shoulder.  And on that shoulder was a tattoo of a wolf.

“It’s that guy in the photo,” Jenny breathed and tried to push the screen door open.  “Miguel?” she asked tentatively. 

The man roused slightly and lifted his bloodied head so he could look at Jenny.  His once handsome face was swollen and his nose was clearly broken.  He was barely conscious as he whispered, “I tried to save her.”  Tears rolled out of his bloodshot eyes.  “They took her...”  His eyelids drifted closed and he passed out.

CHAPTER FIVE

Jenny frantically pushed on the screen door as she yelled, “Who took her?  Where is she?  Wake up, darn it.”  The bulk of Miguel’s body was wedged against the door, and she couldn’t force it open, but that didn’t stop her from trying.  Again and again, she shoved against it, but her slight weight didn’t move the man an inch.

As soon as I saw the blood, I had called 911.  As I finished the call, I told her, “Paramedics are on the way.” I grabbed her shoulders and stopped her from pushing the door before she hurt herself.  “Is there a back door?”

“Oh, right.”  She spun around and ran toward the kitchen. 

I followed her, amazed at how quickly she could move.  As soon as she opened the back door, a big, hairy black cat ran in.  I heard Jenny sneeze
and a gate squeak open and bang shut.  I slipped on my shoes and walked out of the kitchen to a fenced-in patio area that must have been where the cat had been exiled.  I opened the cedar gate and it slammed behind me as I ran around the side of the house.

I caught up with Jenny just before she reached Miguel, but I couldn’t keep her from dropping to her knees next to him.

As a magician, our goal was to make an illusion seem dangerous and even life-threatening, but none of us ever wanted to see blood.  I had to admit that it creeped me out.  I had seen some pretty vicious fights, but this guy had really taken a beating.  The blood had pooled on the porch and was running down the steps.  I wasn’t sure how much blood a human could lose before they died, but I had to believe this guy was pressing the limit.

“Tell me where Angie is.  Who took her?” Jenny
cried, repeating it over and over, desperate to get answers from Miguel.

I remembered seeing a movie where a guy’s life was saved because they applied pressure to his wound.  As much as I didn’t want to stick my hand in all that blood, I knew I had to do something.  I took off my shirt and knelt down on the porch behind him.  The shot looked like it had gone straight through, so I had to wad up my shirt on both ends and wrap it around his shoulder so I
could hold it against both wounds.  I felt the blood pumping out, but as I tightened my grip, it slowed.

The sound of sirens in the background was the most welcome noise I’d ever heard.  A fire truck rolled to a stop in front of the house and several firefighters jumped out and ran over to help.  I gladly gave up my post and stepped back, but Jenny was more reluctant to leave Miguel’s side.  When I saw the stricken look in her eyes that looked too large for her small, pale face, I knew she needed some moral support.   My hands were covered in blood, but her dress was already ruined, so I pulled her into my arms and held her shivering body against mine as we watched the firefighters struggle to stabilize the young man
and save his life. 

As soon as the paramedics arrived, they
braced his neck with a cervical collar, loaded him onto a gurney and wheeled him to the ambulance. One of the paramedics immediately focused on hooking him up to the monitors and an IV.  The weak beep of the heart monitor showed Miguel was hanging on…but barely.

The red and blue lights continued to circle, bouncing off the trees and houses and curious neighbors’ face
s.  I looked at Jenny who was clinging to my arm as if it was all that was holding her upright.

The other
paramedic stopped in front of us.  “What’s his name?”

“Miguel,” I told him.

“Last name?”

Jenny and I both shook our heads. 

“Family?”

Again, we indicated that we didn’t know.  “We’ve never seen him before tonight.  We think he was dating her sister, but that’s all we know about him.”

The paramedic turned and slammed the ambulance doors shut.

“Where are
you taking him?” I called after him.

“Seton Medical Center,” he answered, then jumped in the cab, turned on the siren and screamed off into the night.

“We’ve got to go,” Jenny said.

“Let’s clean up first,” I suggested.  “And put on some shoes.”

She looked down at herself, realizing for the first time that her dress was wet with blood and her feet were bare.  Just as we were about to go around back, a police car pulled up and two officers stepped out.  I had a feeling our evening was about to get more complicated, so I gave Christopher a quick call.

“Hey.  I’m at Jenny’s house…no really…no I didn’t, I mean, listen, man stick with me on this.  We were just…well…hanging out and suddenly Miguel shows up.  No shit!  He was on the porch bleeding out,
leaning up against the front door.  They just took him to Seton, and we were about to follow him, but now the cops are here.  Yeah…I’ll handle it, then we’ll meet you there.  Hey, can you bring me a shirt?  Later.”

“Miss, can you step over here with me?” one of the officers asked…well, not really asked, but he was polite about it.  Reluctantly, she followed him.  She was anxious to get to the hospital so she could talk to Miguel, and this was an annoying delay.

The other cop approached me and nodded toward the side of the house.  I followed him, but my heart did a little skip.  None of my dealings with the police had ever been bad, but they’d never been good either.  They had showed up at my door many times when I was younger with my mother passed out in their cruiser.  And then in Vegas, before I had found enough work to keep me off the streets, I had always been looking over my shoulder, afraid of being arrested for vagrancy or worse. 

“What’s your name?”  The officer flipped open his li
ttle spiral notebook and began taking notes.

I started when Jenny showed up at our office yesterday and finished with the discovery of Miguel on her doorstep.  Of course, I left out the intimate stuff and the stash of cash we had discovered in Angie’s shop.  It was probably all related, but I felt it fell somewhere in the agency/client privilege area.  I really needed to read up on the rules of being a private investigator if I was going to take this new career seriously.

After about thirty minutes, the police must have accepted our stories because they told us they had enough information for now, but not to leave town.  By now they had strung crime scene tape around the front porch, so we had to go around back to get into the house.

The light wasn’t on, so as we opened the gate, she said,
“Watch your step.  Her darn cat’s dish and cat house are beside the door.”

“Cat house? 
Really?”

“
What else do you call a small dog house that I bought for her cat?  A cat house.”  She sneezed as she opened the door.  “He got inside, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, he ran in.”

She sneezed again.  “Well, I don’t have time to find him right now.  I’ll change and be right back.”

While she was in her bedroom, I went to the bathroom where I washed up as well as I could and got completely redressed.  The last thing I wanted was to be at the hospital and have my underwear fall out of my pocket.
  Jenny took her turn in the bathroom and came out looking cleaner, if no less stressed.  Dressed in a pair of slacks, a sleeveless blouse and sandals, she gave me a curious look.

“Sorry I don’t have a shirt I can loan you,” she said. 

“Christopher’s bringing me one to the hospital.”

We walked outside in an awkward silence.  She left the back porch light on, locked the door, and we circled the house and got into her car.  Neither of us
knew what to say about all that had happened tonight, both the good things and the bad.  Aware that she wasn’t in any condition to drive, she handed me the keys and gave me directions on how to get to the hospital.

It was
after two a.m. when we walked into the visitor’s lobby of the emergency room.  The ambulance had long ago dropped Miguel off and left.  When we asked about him at the desk, they said he had gone straight into surgery.

Christopher and Killeen entered the hospital and approached us.  Christopher tossed me a polo shirt which I gratefully pulled on.  I worked hard to keep my body buff
, and I was used to an audience, but it was a little embarrassing walking around a hospital with all the nurses and patients staring at me.  We were directed to the surgery waiting area, and we walked down the hallway to the designated room.  Once there, we were too restless to sit, so we stood at one end of the room, away from an old man who was obviously also waiting for someone behind the intimidating double doors of the surgical area.

“So,
the guy in the photo showed up…without Angie?” Killeen asked.

We spent the next few minutes catching them up on Miguel’s
inauspicious arrival.  Jenny’s attention stayed glued on the doors, clearly more focused on what might be going on in the area beyond.

“And that’s all he said?” Christopher asked.

“He barely got that out.”  I felt Jenny shiver beside me, and I reached over and took her hand.  It was ice cold.

“You’re freezing.  Do you want me to get you a blanket?”

“I’m okay,” she said softly.

I knew she wasn’t, so I tried to distract her. 
“Early in my magic career I was working with the Great Santonio, a sweet man in his late sixties, but well past his prime.”

“
When a magician goes downhill, does his name change…like the Not-so-Great Santonio, or the Used-to-be-Great Santonio?” Christopher asked facetiously, picking up on my attempt to lighten the mood.

“
I never heard anyone call him anything else.  Anyway, he taught me some things early in my career like telling me that cold hands meant the person I picked to come up on stage was nervous, and I should use that to my advantage in the illusion.”

“
Yes, I’m nervous,” Jenny admitted.  “That guy in there is a couple of drops of blood away from checking out, and he knows where my sister is. Heck, yeah, I’m nervous.”

“Anyway
,” I squeezed her hand, “one night he shook my hand, and it felt like he’d had it in the freezer all afternoon before the first show.  It turns out he wasn’t nervous after all.”

“
And?” Jenny asked.

“After the first show he went to
his dressing room, sat down and died…the medical examiner said he had circulatory problems.”

Jenny stared at me.  “Is th
at story supposed to cheer me up…because it didn’t.  Now I’m worried about my circulation.”  Her gaze shifted to my left and I turned around to see a tall, middle-aged nurse approaching.  She had pasty skin so white that it made her teeth appear off-colored. Her eyes looked like they hadn’t closed in a week.

“
I’m Nurse Oster…you’re friends of that young man who was shot?”

“
Yes…well, no, not exactly,” I answered.  “We don’t actually know him.  He collapsed on her porch.”

“So he’s not a relative or a friend?  You guys are just good Samaritans?”
  The nurse started to turn away.

“
We’re actually friends of his family.  Sort of.  He’s dating my sister.  We called the ambulance,” Jenny quickly added.

“
We wanted to make sure he’s alright.  Is he?”  After trying to hold back the flood of blood from his wound, I couldn’t image how he could possibly survive.  But since he was the only lead we had, I knew how much this meant to Jenny.

“
You kids don’t know much about the human body, do you?  Look, he’s ounces away from bleeding out unless they can stop all the bleeding in surgery.  He may never have a chance to say thank you.  I’d go on home if I were you.  It will be at least eight hours before he’s in recovery…or the morgue.  If they can stop all the leaks, maybe you can talk to him tomorrow…maybe.”  The nurse walked away before we could ask any more questions.

“Fu
dge!”

“
Still using your pre-school words, I see,” I teased.

“She has no idea how important it is that I talk to him.  Just two minutes…”  Jenny buried her face in her hands.

“He’s young and healthy…at least he was before he got beat up and shot.”

She looked up at me. 
“Still not helping.”

“
Look,” I said, forcing her to focus on me.  “He came to tell you something.  It must have been quite a struggle to get to your house.  He’s trying really hard to survive so he can help Angie.  We can go home and come back tomorrow, or if you want to, I’ll stay here with you tonight…just in case.” 

“You’re sweet Reno…really sweet.
”  Then her gaze shifted again.

I looked around and saw a tall, lean guy approaching us.  Even though he was wearing civilian clothes, he had the look of a cop.

“Excuse me,” he said as he approached us.

I kept Jenny’s hand
in mine as I answered, “Yes sir…may I help you?”

“
Are you with the young Mexican guy they brought in…Miguel Rodriguez?” he asked without any introductions.

“
Oh…that’s his name, huh?  And you are?”  I asked.

“Nick
Archer, DEA.  So, how do you guys know Miguel?”  Nick opened the case of his computer tablet, pulled out a stylus and began pecking away at the screen.  “Shit…still getting used to this thing.”  He took a deep breath and then tapped with increasing force at what must have been the backspace or delete key.  He wasn’t positioned where I could see for sure.  ‘Okay…go ahead.”