Present Danger (13 page)

“Oh, Mary, honestly?” Aunie’s dimples punched deep into her cheeks as she smiled radiantly at her friend. “I think that’s probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Mary propped her chin in her palm and chewed on her pinkie finger. “Oh, yeah, right,” she said skeptically. “Like you don’t know you’re the brain of the CC calculus circuit.”

“It’s news to me,” Aunie replied with perfect honesty. “Until this past year, I never suspected I had any sort of brain at all.”

“You kiddin’ me? I figured you for one of those whiz-kid genius types. Brains
and
beauty—what a gagger. I couldn’t figure out what you were doing at this rinky-dink community college.”

“I’m here because my high school grades weren’t good enough to get me in anywhere else.” Aunie laughed. “Gawd, but you’re good for my ego.”

“Glad to hear it,” Mary replied glumly, picking up her pencil. “Anytime it needs a stroke, just give me
a jingle. But in the meantime, I really need you to help me understand this shit.”

“C’mon, c’mon,” Mary muttered, leaning on the buzzer. “I didn’t slog through the rain for four stinking blocks for this.” There was still no answer. “Damn!”

She hesitated, then pressed the button beneath the label that read Manager.

Static crackled. “May I help you?”

Mary leaned into the speaker. “Yes, please. My name is Mary Holloman … I’m a friend of Aunie’s. Apparently she’s not home and I was wondering if I could leave a message for her.”

“She has told me of you,” the exotically accented voice replied in a calm, lilting cadence. “Please to come in. You will find her on the second floor learnin’ from the mons how to paint.” The intercom crackled again, then fell silent. An instant later the door buzzed and Mary pushed it open. As she climbed the stairs she thought to herself—for about the hundredth time—what an enigma Aunie Franklin was.

Apparently, she’d discussed her with the woman with the accent; yet she’d never said a word to Mary in return about the exotic-sounding woman. Aunie had told her a little about her upbringing, enough to explain, anyway, why she was unceasingly flattered at Mary’s unshakable opinion of her as a brain. Mary had an intuitive feeling, however, that there was more to Aunie’s story than she had yet heard.

She truly hoped that someday they’d be close enough for Aunie to trust her with the entire story of her life. She was endlessly interested in her and
thought they had the potential for a deep and lasting friendship.

“Dammit, Aunie, don’t slop!” Mary heard a masculine voice say irritably just before she reached the top of the stairs.

“You bumped the ladder!”

“I was nowhere near the damn ladder.”

“Oh, sure. If that isn’t just like a man to weasel out of taking responsibility.” There was a rumble of choked laughter that was hastily turned into a deep-timbre cough. Then Aunie’s voice again, saying with sweet insincerity, “It was all my fault, Mistah Rydah, Ah’m sure. I am evah so sorry.”

“You’ll
be
sorry, if you don’t stop with that mister bullshit. I’ve wised up to you, Magnolia—I know damn well you just do it to piss me off.”

“Why, James, I’m appalled you should think such a thing.”

“Like hell. You’re probably tickled pink that it works.”

Mary stood a few steps away from the top of the stairs and eavesdropped with unabashed fascination. She and Aunie shared a kindred sense of humor and over the past few weeks they’d laughed together quite a bit. For the most part, however, she was accustomed to her friend’s habit of being gracious but somewhat distant to most of the people she came into contact with. She’d never before heard her quite like this, all feisty and argumentative. It was yet one more facet revealed in a multifaceted personality. Mary grinned and bounded up the remaining stairs.

She caught sight of Aunie standing on a ladder between two men who looked like they’d be right at home in a street brawl, and she paused, eyeing her friend’s companions warily. The black man was gigantic
and looked like he ate babies for breakfast. It probably had something to do with that bald, scarred head and massive physique. The other one, the blonde with the ponytail, while lankier and nowhere as tall as his dark-skinned buddy, was still solidly built; and his eyes, drilling holes at the moment into Aunie’s back, were
not
civilized. His expression suggested he was the type who’d dare to do just about anything. Mary was a little surprised that Aunie had the nerve to give him any lip—hell, to sass either of them, for that matter.

Then she shrugged. First impressions weren’t always the best criteria to judge a person’s worth by… look how wrong she’d been about Aunie. Obviously, if Aunie was comfortable enough to jerk a few chains with impunity, then she must be fairly friendly with the two men. Mary grinned once again in a humorous sort of wonder. They weren’t exactly the type of company she’d have expected her well-bred little friend to be keeping.

Mary set herself in motion once again. “I expected you to be crackin’ the books, Franklin,” she called as she strolled down the hallway. No one had noticed her arrival as they’d painted the wall, and in unison their heads swung around at the sound of her voice.

“Mary!” Aunie’s voice was warm and welcoming. She set her paint pad carefully in the tray attached to her ladder and wiped her paint-splattered hands on the black smock she wore.

“It’s a damn good thing you’re home,” Mary informed her as she walked up to the three of them. “I came to study with you for tomorrow’s final and I had to park four blocks away. Four blocks! It’s pouring out there and I wasn’t a happy camper when you didn’t answer your buzzer. Luckily, there was a lady
with a pretty accent in the manager’s apartment, and she told me what you were doing and let me in. My name is Mary,” she said in a friendly aside to the two men. “Who are you?”

“I’m sorry,” Aunie said, climbing off the ladder. “I should have introduced you. This is my friend Mary Holloman,” she said to the men. “Mary, this is James Ryder and Otis Jackson. It was Otis’s wife Lola to whom you spoke.”

“Nice to meet you,” Mary said and immediately turned back to Aunie. “What are you doing painting walls during finals week? I thought I’d find you hip-deep in textbooks.”

“I needed a break from studying,” Aunie replied. “So Otis and James offered me the opportunity to learn how to paint.” She gestured at the wall behind them and smiled happily. “Isn’t it great? I’ve never done this before.”

Puzzled by Aunie’s attitude, which seemed to suggest that a very special favor had been bestowed on her, Mary turned to study the two men. “Big of you to make her such a generous offer,” she said skeptically. Both of them just grinned, and their smiles gave Mary her first glimmer of the personalities behind the tough, street-aware exteriors. She couldn’t help smiling back before she returned her attention to Aunie. “Speaking of breaks, when’s your last final?”

“Friday morning.”

“My last one is on Thursday afternoon. Let’s go out Friday night and celebrate, whataya say?”

“Just you and me?”

“Yeah. Slap on some red lipstick and curl your hair. I know a good bar where the music’s hot and the men are good-lookin’.”

“Ooh.” Aunie regarded her friend with interested eyes. “I’ll wear somethin’ short and tight. And my highest heels.”

“That’s the ticket.” Mary grasped Aunie by the arm. “Well, I’m sure you’ll excuse us, fellas,” she said to the two men. Otis was still smiling, but she observed that James was regarding her with eyes that had become abruptly unfriendly. She gave them both her sweetest smile. “I’m afraid your paint job will just have to get along without Aunie’s help. We’ve got studying to do.” She dragged Aunie down the hall.

“Thanks for showin’ me how,” Aunie called back over her shoulder as she trotted to keep up with her taller friend. She laughed at something Mary murmured to her and then a moment later her apartment door banged closed behind them.

The men resumed painting. It was silent for several moments before Otis said with thoughtful slowness, “I imagine that little gal will look mighty fine in somethin’ short and tight, wearin’ her highest heels.” He turned guileless ebony eyes on James. “Don’t you?”

James slapped his pad into the tray with unnecessary force, splashing white paint over the rim. He swore softly, staring blindly at the mess. Then he turned green eyes on his friend. They were wiped free of all expression. “Yeah,” he replied emotionlessly. “I’m sure she’ll look just fine.”

“
Real
fine,” Otis ruthlessly amended. He wasn’t above twisting
the
screw a bit. Jimmy was usually self-aware to a fault. Lately, however, he’d been downright obtuse.

“Sure,” James agreed flatly. “Real fine.”

* * *

Aunie and Mary jostled for space in front of the mirror in Aunie’s tiny bathroom. Being the smallest, Aunie stood in front. She pulled down her lower eyelid and carefully applied liner. Satisfied with the results, she picked up the mascara wand but paused, meeting Mary’s eyes in the mirror.

“I don’t know quite how to say this without sounding rude,” she said, “but I was really pleased that it was only you and me going out tonight.” She stroked a coat of brown-black onto her lashes. “It’s not that I’m not appreciative of the way you’ve introduced me to everyone or that I don’t like them, you understand. It’s just that most of them seem so …
young.”

“They are young,” Mary replied around the lipstick she was carefully applying.

“And untried and innocent.”

Mary laughed. “And you aren’t?” She blotted her lips on a tissue and used the side of her little finger to remove a minuscule smear that had strayed outside the natural lines.

“In some ways, perhaps. But in others …” Aunie hesitated. Then, lowering the hand she had raised to apply her own lipstick, she met Mary’s eyes in the mirror and told her about her marriage. She intuitively felt she could trust Mary with her private life, and if she couldn’t … well, she’d find out soon enough.

She liked Mary’s response. She didn’t exclaim or commiserate. Instead, she listened quietly, and when Aunie was finished speaking, she reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “I’ve been married, too,” she confided in return. “My story isn’t as dramatic as
yours; in fact it’s pretty common. But it was still painful to me.” Her voice trailed off.

“What happened?” Aunie inquired.

Mary gave her a tiny, wry smile and then reached past her to pick up her earring off the shelf. She hooked it through the hole in her ear. “You’ve probably heard it a million times. We got married too young and then grew in different directions. I wasn’t even eighteen yet, and Billy was nineteen.”

When she didn’t say anything further, Aunie pulled a brush through her hair for several silent strokes, then ventured to say in a soft voice “Things just didn’t work out?”

“No, things didn’t work out.” Mary looked pensive then made an effort to shake off the gloomy mood that had settled over them. She fluffed her curly hair. “Well, this is getting pretty grim. Hell of a way to start a celebration, don’t you think?”

A horn honked out on the street and Aunie gave Mary the hip. “That’s probably our cab. Let’s go paint the town.”

They were laughing as they tripped through the front entrance of the apartment house and they didn’t see James coming up the walk until they’d barrelled into him. Aunie bounced off the worn, soft surface of his leather jacket and might have fallen if he hadn’t grabbed her shoulders to steady her.

He looked down at her, noting the red lipstick. It accentuated that damned little mole over her upper lip. “That’s right,” he said. “It’s your big night out, isn’t it?” His eyes ran slowly down the rest of her. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense, Magnolia. Unbutton your coat; let’s see how you look.”

His voice was perfectly level, but Aunie picked up an intimation of something uncivilized beneath the
surface. She peered up at him with a trace of suspicion, but she was unable to decide if it was justified. His eyes were noncommittal; his tone was not snide, so maybe it was only in her imagination that he’d managed to make a straightforward request assume the connotation of stripping down to the skin. But just in case it wasn’t…

Chin rising fractionally, she unfastened her coat and spread it open. She struck a deliberately sexy pose. “Whataya think?”

Ho-ly shhh
… James’s Adam’s apple rode the column of his throat as he swallowed dryly. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d said she was going to wear something short and tight. “You look like you’re ready for that red-hot affair, Aunie,” he said through a tight throat. His eyes rose slowly from their intense contemplation of her body to spear into hers. “Have fun.”

Abruptly, he turned and strode away. The front door clicked softly closed behind him.

Mary looked at Aunie quizzically as they climbed into the taxi. “What is it with you and that guy?”

“What?” Aunie asked vaguely. All those feelings she’d managed to suppress from that night in her apartment had suddenly resurfaced with a vengeance.

Mary jerked her thumb at the rear window of the cab in the direction of the receding apartment house. “What was that all about?”

Her unapologetic curiosity was like pulling the plug in Aunie’s dammed-up emotions, and words tumbled from her lips in a near incoherent rush. “Oh, gawd, Mary, I’ve been so stupid. Like an idiot I told him I’d like to have a red-hot affair. I don’t know what possessed me—it’s just a fantasy I have; I’d never have the nerve to actually instigate any such thing, and
why I should brag to James, of all people …” She shrugged. “Well, anyway, he said not to expect to have it with him, and Lola said he was a hot kisser but I poo-pooed the idea, so then he
kissed me.
Before I knew it, I was plastered up against the door with my legs wrapped around his waist and his hands gripping my rear end, being kissed to within an inch of my life; and Mary, I’ve never felt anything like that in my
life,
and I wanna have an affair, only I want to have it with
him,
but that’s never gonna happen ‘cuz he told me so, so now I’m even worse off than I was before I opened my big mouth …” Her words choked in her throat as she ran out of breath.