Lost and Found (35 page)

I feel like my head is about to explode. “Really? Do you mean it?” I start clapping in anticipation.

“Yes, I really do. Come on. Get in the car, would you? I don’t have all day.”

I practically jump inside, I’m so happy. Who cares if he sees my terrible apartment now? He’s agreed to take the ring and get rid of it forever. My life is finally going to get re-set. I’ll be able to go visit Mel without worrying my bad luck is going to rub off on him. I’ll go to the farmer’s market tomorrow and sell the hell out of those oils and crystals for Belinda. I’ll find another apartment, one that’s cheaper and maybe even closer to work. Or not. Maybe I’ll just live in a box somewhere, but I’ll be free of that bad juju. Life. Is. Awesome. Bright future, here I come!

As I settle into my seat and get a look at Cassie, my joy kind of dissipates a little. I have to look away to keep from tearing up. It becomes painfully clear in that moment that getting rid of the ring also means I won’t be seeing anymore of James or this tiny girl, either. Maybe a few days ago that wouldn’t have meant jack-poo to me, but today, it means a lot. Probably way more than it should. I seriously hate how much this ring has messed with my life. I’m damned if I keep it and damned if I get rid of it. I must have done something very, very wrong in my last life to deserve this. Karmic slap. Boom. Feel the burn.

I look at Cassie again and she’s smiling at me. It takes some of the edge off my frustration. The more I stare at her, the harder she smiles. I reach over and poke her gently in the belly. “Well, don’t you look adorable today?”

She’s wearing one of the outfits I picked out at Babies-R-Us. Not that she needed anymore clothes, but there was something about that little ladybug pattern all over it that called to me. Luckily James finally got into the
Pretty Woman
moment and let me buy anything I wanted. I’m touched he chose this outfit instead of one of the fifty his sister packed.

Looking back, I realize it was probably one of the funnest shopping days I’ve ever had. The only thing that would have made it better would have been to be able to walk up to Tamika or whatever her name is and say, “You work on commission, right?” while I waved my fifty bags at her.

“Ready?” James asks me, interrupting my fantasy as he settles into the seat on the other side of Cassie.

I nod. I’m back to having a melancholy moment, wondering if this is the last ride we’ll take together. The last day I’ll be able to call him Boo and see his facial expression go from angry to comical to serious. I love that he swings through so many emotions in such a short space of time. Being with him is like going to the fair and riding a huge roller coaster. I think I’m going to miss the thrill that trying to trick him brings.

I’m definitely twisted. My ends feel like beginnings and my beginnings ends. Here I thought I was at end of the road and I’m asking for a do-over. Yeah. I’m definitely sick. I feel the back of my forehead to check for a fever and all I find is more sweat.

“Where are we going?” he asks.

I tell him my address as I dig around in my purse, pretending to be busy. I don’t want to see the expression on his or the driver’s face since I’ve pretty much just told him I’m poor as dirt by just saying the street name.

“Are you looking for the ring?” he asks.

“Yes.” I’m lying, but just as I say it, my fingers close around it.

“Give it to me. I don’t want anyone coming after you again.”

I happily hand it over. He puts it in the front pocket of his pants. “So what did this guy look like?”

“It’s not what he looked like so much as what he smells like.”

James just stares at me with one eyebrow lifted.

“I rigged a trap in case he came back.”

“Of course you did.” James breathes out a long sigh. “Are you going to tell me the whole story or am I going to have to torture it out of you?”

I bite my lip, the images of his ‘torture’ making me go all squirrelly inside. “Uhhh … I think I’ll just tell you minus the torture part.”

“Good call,” he says, giving me a dangerous look.

Now I’m warm for a different reason, and the heat I’m feeling from this little game is way more than I was feeling after running six blocks.

I lift out my shirt a little and wave the material around, begging for some cool air to come to my chest and help me out. At this point I’m going to combust five minutes into our drive and we have at least twenty to go.

Chapter Sixty-Eight

“SO THIS ISN’T THE FIRST time you’ve seen him?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “No. The first time was at a jewelry store. When I first found the ring, I tried to figure out if it was real.” She looks sideways at me, like she feels guilty about something, but then continues, scratching her neck. “I went to this Goldman’s jewelry store and he told me it was real and if I came back the next day, he might be able to tell me who owned it by the laser etching.”

Alarm bells are ringing in my head. “And this didn’t strike you as strange?”

Her eyebrows draw together. “No. Should it have?” She scratches her neck again.

“Why couldn’t he just tell you the first time you came in? Why did he have to make you wait?”

“I don’t know. I guess I figured it would take him a long time to do it. Maybe he was busy.”

“Was it a busy place?”

She laughs self-consciously. “Uh, no. Not at all. There was dust everywhere.”

I reach over and pull her hand away from her neck. “Are you having an allergic reaction to something? This looks like hives.”

“No, no, it’s nothing.” Her face turns pink all over. “I get itchy when I’m nervous.”

“Nervous? What are you nervous about?”

She shrugs and looks out the window, saying nothing.

“If there’s something you want to say, you know you can say it to me.” I want to ease her discomfort. It makes me feel bad to see her this way.

She sighs heavily, as if the weight of the world is on her shoulders. “I guess I’m not looking forward to the end as much as I thought I would.”

My pulse leaps. I know exactly what she means. When I suggested we’d go to Cartier and end this thing, I was doing the one thing I knew would make her happy, all the while knowing it was going to make me miserable.

“I know what you mean,” I say softly, trying to keep our conversation from becoming the driver’s next gossip session.

She looks at me, the sadness in her eyes difficult to take. “I don’t think you do.”

I reach over the carseat and take her hand, resting it with mine on Cassie’s legs. “Sure I do. This has been …”

I wait too long to finish my sentence.

“Crazy? Nuts? Annoying?” she offers.

“No. Fun.” I smile when I realize I’m telling the truth. “It’s been fun. Honestly, I can’t remember being this energized in years.”

She pulls her hand away, her expression going incredulous. “Fun? Are you kidding? I’ve disguised myself to try and sneak into your office, your apartment … I’ve been kicked out more times than I care to remember. You’ve been rude, arrogant … you pulled a gun on me…”

“Yeah,” I hold up a finger, “but it’s been fun, right?”

She opens her mouth to argue, but then she stops. She stares at me for a long time, and then she responds. “Maybe it’s been a little fun. Shopping for Cassie was fun.”

“See? That’s the spirit.” I look out the window and notice we’re close to her place. “There’s no reason the fun has to end.” I say it casually, but my ears are completely tuned into her, waiting to hear what she’s going to say.

“I don’t see how it can continue. Once that ring is gone, I have no more reason to dress up Asian-style and try to sneak fake-Chinese food into your apartment.”

I turn and grin at her. “You can just come up as
you
next time. No disguise.”

She looks at me funny. “You don’t want me up there as me.”

“Sure I do. I just said I did, didn’t I?”

She stares at me for a few seconds, like she’s trying to peel back layers of my brain and find out if I’m lying. Then she turns her head and stares out the window, saying nothing.

We reach her apartment and she gets out. At first I think she’s going to just take off and leave us at the curb but she stops and reaches in, taking the diaper bag off the floor below Cassie’s car seat. “I’m on the third floor. Apartment at the top of the stairs.”

“I’ll meet you up there.” Looking at the driver, I say, “Would you mind going with her, just to be sure there’s no one up there?” He’s about three hundred pounds, most of it muscle. I have no worries about his ability to handle whatever might be waiting.

“No problem, sir.” The uniformed driver gets out and runs to open the main door for Leah.

“Come on, baby girl. Time to go crack some skulls.” I pull Cassie out of her seat and follow them into the building.

The first thing that hits me is the smell. Someone has been boiling either cabbage or body parts for a really long time in here.

The door on the ground floor opens and a guy comes out dressed in a red and white track suit. “Who’re you?” he asks, acting suspicious.

“I’m James Oliver, and I’m here with Leah. We’re in the process of contacting the police to fill out a report.”

“Yeah, well, you’re too late. I already did it.” He smiles, obviously very satisfied with himself.

I turn around and check the door. “Do you have a lock on this front door to keep non-residents from entering.”

“Yes.” Larry’s chin comes up. “I installed it myself. I have good tools.”

“I’m sure you do. What about the fire escape ladder? Is it suspended high enough off the ground to keep an intruder from using it to gain entry?”

He frowns in confusion. “I don’t know. I don’t take care of that. It’s just attached to the building.”

I raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to make the connection.

“On the outside,” he says, as if that makes all the difference.

“So you’re saying, because it’s on the outside of the building, you’re not responsible for it? Do you expect Leah to be responsible for that, then?”

“No, I ain’t sayin’ that. That’s crazy talk. I’m sayin’ if the City had a problem with it, they’d tell me. Then I’d fix it. But I ain’t outside with a measurin’ tape checking heights and whatever.”

“No, of course you aren’t.” I leave him to stew in his ignorance and climb the stairs.

“Did you just agree with me or not?” he shouts up the stairs.

“I’ll leave that to you to determine for yourself,” I say, continuing in my ascent.

Leah’s door is open and the driver is standing just outside the entrance.

He nods at me and I nod back as we both take in the state of her place.

It’s a studio not much bigger than my closet. There’s one small window at the back that leads to a fire escape. Whatever furniture Leah might have had, it’s not recognizable as anything now. There are a couple cushions that have been relieved of their stuffing, some books scattered around, and a few items of clothing tossed from one end of the room to the other.

“This is where he got in,” Leah says, pointing at the window as she leans over and inhales deeply. “I rigged some perfume to spray when the window opened and I can tell it went off.” She sniffs again. “Whoever he is, he’s walking around smelling like an old man tart right now.”

I let the old man tart thing slide since I’m sure the explanation will give me a headache trying to understand. “Your landlord — I assume that’s who he is — says he already filed a police report.”

“He did? Oh. So what do I do now?” Leah looks around her, lost.

“Get what you need and let’s go.” The decision is made. It comes to me in a flash and I’m not going to let go of it.

“Go where?” Her gaze lands on something on the floor.

I look down near my feet and see a crumpled up piece of paper with a piece of tape hanging off it.

“Don’t touch that!” she yells when she sees me looking at it.

I bend over, mindful of Cassie and pick it up. “Why not?”

“Because!” She’s holding her hand out. “It’s evidence! You shouldn’t touch it!”

I open it up and begin to read. “This is an eviction notice.”

“No it’s not.”

I look up to find Leah itching her armpit like a monkey at the zoo. Then her nails move to her neck and leave a welt there as she scratches away.

“You’re nervous again. Is it about this?” I hold out the paper.

“What? That?
Pfff
.
 
Please. That doesn’t bother me.” She’s frowning but it’s not fooling me for a second.

I crumple the thing up into a tight ball and throw it across the room. “Get your stuff, put it in a bag, and come with me.” That paper just confirmed my decision. No way am I walking away and leaving her here.

“But…”

“I’m not taking no for an answer, so don’t bother trying. You want to move in with Larry or you want to come with me?”

She gets a sick look on her face.

“Come on, let’s go. I don’t have all day.”

“I have to go to work tomorrow.”

“Work? Where? It’s Sunday. Can’t you take the day off?”

“I have another day at the farmer’s market. Belinda’s counting on me, so I have to go. All my stuff is there.” She points to a corner of the room where some crates are stacked.

“Fine. We’ll take them with us.” I walk over and put Cassie in her arms. “Take her, I’ll take the crates.”

“But …”

“Pack a bag,” I say over my shoulder. “Or don’t. We can shop for what you need. Looks like most of your things were taken anyway.” I see three shirts and one pair of pants in the chaos that is her apartment.

“No, I don’t think they took any clothes,” she says, sounding forlorn.

I ignore her distress because I know if I pay any attention to it, she’ll start arguing with me. She doesn’t want to come, that much is obvious. But that’s just too bad. Regardless of how much I might want to see her naked, that’s not my motivator right now. No gentleman would let a woman stay in a place like this when the chances of another break-in are so high, and if I’m nothing else, I’m that. A gentleman. A guy who can keep his hands where they belong when necessary. I hope.

“This is only temporary,” she says as I walk out of the apartment, two heavy crates stacked on one another in my hands. The small glass bottles inside jingle as they’re rattled against one another with my every step.