Second Thoughts (18 page)

Her gaze
jerked away as her eye caught people entering the restaurant behind him. “Speaking of whom,” she said in an undertone.

He froze. Then his eyes closed, his hands dropped, and his head hung. “You’re kidding.” He looked like a timid bear in a business suit.

“I wish I were.”

She was amazed at her stupidity. Chris had told her they were going to the new Sears today, and it was right next door. He and his dad and uncle now stood at the counter, waiting to order their meal, right in front of the only door leading outside.

Well, there was one more exit, two steps away from her. It was clearly marked, in big red letters:
Emergency exit. Alarm will sound
. The situation was dire enough she gave that door an instant’s thought, but the second sentence talked her out of it.

Her gaze darted back to the three people at the counter. They hadn’t looked this way yet, but that run of luck wouldn’t hold much longer. Her mind continued to race, arranging plans, discarding plans, and then she sucked in her breath and held it.

“Go. Now. Right now. Chris has his back turned, drawing a Coke. Derek will see you, but he won’t jump up and down and point at you.”

Moose didn’t move. Connie shoved. “Go!” she commanded in a loud whisper.

He turned and went. With his eyes cast down at the floor, he looked as guilty as any man could look. Connie shook her head. That man was not a good actor.

Fortunately, Chris was having difficulty with the machine’s mechanism and Kevin moved to help him. Derek caught sight of Moose. His eyes flickered for an instant, but that was it. Moose got through the door without calling undue attention to himself, and Connie started breathing again.

Then Derek’s eyes found her, and she realized she’d relaxed too soon. His face registered surprise, suspicion, and then downright anger. He wasted no time getting to her. “What’s going on?”

She stared silently back.

“This better not have anything to do with that comic book.”

There was no suitable answer. She couldn’t even find an evasive one.

“Connie, dammit, what are you up to? Talk to me.”

“Annie Connie!” Chris almost bowled her over. Clearly he liked his aunt as much as he liked his uncle. Smiling, she knelt and returned his hug.

She looked up. “Hi, Kevin.” She straightened but wouldn’t meet Derek’s eyes.

“You left almost two hours ago,” Kevin said. “You should be long gone by now. Did you have car trouble?”

Too bad it wasn’t that simple. “No. I ran into…an old friend. And we had lunch. He just left.”

Kevin glanced at his brother. He probably thought that explained the dark look. He and Chris sat at the next table to await their food order. “No napkins?” He looked annoyed. A passing busboy stole napkins from another table, handed them over, and Kevin nodded his thanks.

“Well,” Connie said, as she retrieved her purse from the booth. “I have a long drive—”

Derek took her hand. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“That’s not necessary. Your lunch is coming and your food will get cold.” She tried to pull her hand free, but he held fast.

“Lunch is not the problem,” he muttered. He led the way outside, pulling her with him. Having little choice, she stopped arguing and fell in step. Three teenaged girls at a front table gave him a once-over as he passed, but they didn’t seem to recognize him; it was more of a
hmm
look. He wore a straight-hemmed shirt in emerald green over black trousers, and he’d always stood out in a crowd without even trying. One of the girls caught Connie’s eye, gave her an apologetic smile, and then lowered her gaze. As she was dragged along in his wake, Connie wanted to shout
You can have him.

He led her to a corner table with plenty of privacy, then stared at her until she sat down. A wind had sprung up, and only a few people were eating outside. He sat down across from her and then just watched her, saying nothing. She matched his stare and his silence and finally decided at least one of them should act like a grownup.

She managed a smile. “I hope you ordered French fries. They’re good.”

He didn’t smile back. He folded his arms.

Her smile disappeared. “I don’t like it when you do this, Derek. I never liked it.”

“What am I doing?”

“Steamroller O’Reilly, at it again.” She figured her eyes were snapping at him, just like her voice. “And then you act like a misunderstood innocent. That is one thing—two things—I have not missed these past two years.”

Trying to hold on to her temper, she stared at a lemon tree in a square planter box, then wondered why she was trying to hold her temper. Her gaze shot back. “You are the most irritating, have-to-be-in-control man I’ve ever known. How I stayed married to you for four years, I’ll never know.”

“And you are the most irritating, stubborn woman I know. Those four years weren’t exactly the most peaceful of my life. Now are you going to tell me what you’re up to or not?”

“
Not
. I am my own boss, Derek. I don’t owe you an explanation. I don’t owe you a damned thing!”

Their gazes locked. From the look of him, he was working hard at holding on to his own temper. It was a long standoff, which he broke.
With a heavy exhale, he looked at the sky. “And I’m not going to learn a damned thing this way, am I.”

It wasn’t even a question. He already knew the answer. She sat back, nodded. “Well. You may be slow, but you get there.”

“Okay.” He placed his hands palms down on the table, peered at them for the space of a long inhale and exhale, then looked at her. “Will you please give me an explanation of your meeting with Moose, as innocent or lacking in innocence as it may be, even though you don’t owe it to me?”

She waited a beat but could think of no reason to continue holding out on him, so she shrugged. “I ran into Moose. By accident. We had lunch, we talked, and he left.”

“What did you talk about? Did Max and the comic book come up?”

“Of course they did.”

“And?”

“And nothing. Stop it, Derek. You’re doing it again.”

“Would you prefer to go back inside and talk to Kevin instead of me?”

When she jerked to her feet, he did also, and she gave him a look that she hoped carried the steel she felt. “You take hold of my hand again, O’Reilly, and I promise you that I will make a loud and ugly scene.”

Kevin and Chris appeared, carrying trays of foil-wrapped burgers, Cokes, and baskets of fries. They had father and son written all over them, from their tennis shoes to their tie-dyed tees in purple and blue. They set their burden on the table and took chairs. The battling pair remained standing.

“From the look of things,” Kevin said mildly to his son, “we arrived just in time, partner.” He unwrapped his hamburger.

Connie waited a long moment, but then finally she sat down, not wanting to pursue a fight in front of her nephew. Bickering was one thing; full-fledged warfare was another. Derek followed suit, but he was smart enough not to look victorious.

Kevin had included a Coke for Connie. She sipped it and shared Christopher’s fries, while he explained his log-crossing technique to his dad with excited, disjointed phrases. As she listened, her mood eased. When she finished the Coke, she saw that Derek was through with his lunch, so she invited him to walk her to her car. If he was going to do it anyway, she figured it might as well be her idea. He appeared surprised, but Kevin looked smug, and Connie’s ire again rose. She would dearly love to rub that pleased expression off her ex-brother-in-law’s face.

“Take your time,” Kevin told his brother. “Chris and I will head on into Sears. You know where to find us.”

“I get a new fishing pole, Annie Connie.”

She found a smile for Chris. “Wow, aren’t you lucky.” But she couldn’t help wondering why, since he didn’t like fishing.

She and Derek walked silently until they were out of sight and earshot. Then she said, in the kind of droning tone that a student who’d been called upon to recite boring facts might use, “Yes, the subject of the comic book came up. Hayworth keeps it at home, in a flimsy safe with an even flimsier combination lock. And I ran into Moose by accident, like I said. He works in that bank, right over there.” She pointed. “His name is Ray Tidwell. And he’s got a crush on someone named Darlene, and she’s got an even bigger crush on him. Now is there anything else you want to know?”

“Uh-huh. Why did you mention the safe and how flimsy its lock is?”

She shrugged, making light of it. “It came up in conversation.”

“Connie, don’t ever play poker.”

“Oh, for—”

“Come on, out with it. What are you thinking about Hayworth in regard to his safe and its flimsy lock?”

They’d arrived at her car. She leaned against it, sighed, and gave up on her acting skills. “You know exactly what I’m thinking.”

His gaze left hers to wander the parking lot, and he uttered a long string of expletives under his breath. Then he looked back at her. “So help me, Connie, you scare the hell out of me.”

She shrugged. What else could she do?

“Was this your idea,” he asked, “or did it come from Moose?”

“Mine. He threatened to call Kevin and tell on me.”

“Would that do any good?”

“No.”

Though it was windy, she was hot in the full sun. But that wasn’t the only reason she started searching her purse for car keys. Derek wanted to maneuver her into a corner, and she had no intention of going there.

He watched her. “Are you going home now, or is that wishful thinking on my part?”

“I’m not going home. It’s late enough the freeway’s already turned into a parking lot.” For once she was grateful for traffic, because she didn’t have to manufacture a reason to stick around.

“Will you come back to the house then?” he asked. “You can have the cot back.”

“No, thanks.”

“Then you can have the sofa, if you insist.”

“I saw a Holiday Inn about two blocks ago. I’ll get a room there.” She looked up as if testing the atmosphere, in case it might give her directions. “I think it’s south of here.”

He smiled. “It’s west. I saw it. That thoroughfare travels east and west.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll spend the night there.” She hesitated, looking at him. “You won’t tell Kristy? I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

“I don’t know. Maybe that’s what I need to do. Tell Kristy on you instead of Kevin.”

She waited, holding his gaze. He appeared ready to stand there forever, right in front of the car door, so she said, “I promise not to do anything without talking to you first. I won’t ask your permission, but I will talk to you. Okay?”

He studied her face, then nodded. “I believe you will. I’ll settle for that.”

“In some instances, apparently it’s to my advantage I can’t play poker,” she said dryly.

He grinned. “You learned my secret.”

Then he sobered. An unfamiliar, almost sheepish expression crossed his face. “And, well, I guess I should apologize for acting the way I did back there. I was too, uh, well—”

“Overbearing?”

“Yeah. But only because I know you so well. And what I know both worries me and scares me.”

“Apology accepted. And I also apologize, for being so…”

“Bristly and stubborn?”

“Okay.” She allowed a small smile. “And that was only because I know you so well, and I refuse to be led around by the hand.”

He smiled back. Then he bent and, for the second time that day, lightly brushed his lips across hers. Again, the contact was short and powerful.

She took a deep breath, blinked, and worked on regaining her equilibrium.

“You haven’t lost your touch,” she whispered into those striking, blue-green eyes the television camera caught so well. Today, because of the color of his shirt, they were more green than blue.

“Neither have you,” he whispered back.

“Julian Hayworth, please,” Connie said precisely into the phone, trying to sound businesslike.

“This is he.” Cultured voice, good grammar.

“Hello, Mr. Hayworth. I’m with ABC Security, and we have a fabulous deal for first-time clients. Your home isn’t already covered with another company, is it, sir?”

“No, ma’am, and I’m not interested in your sales pitch. You can’t offer me security better than what I can manage on my own. Goodnight.”

The phone clicked in her ear. Connie grinned. “Oh, yeah?” she whispered into the quiet hotel room. “You don’t say.”

She replaced the receiver into its cradle, feeling proud of herself. That had been too easy. It’d taken an hour to work up the nerve to make that call, and then—

The phone rang. She jumped so high she slid off the chair and onto the floor. She scrambled to her feet, stared at the phone, and rubbed her rump through the red kimono.

But he couldn’t have traced the call back to her that fast. Unless he’d used the
star-69
feature? But why would he? And he wouldn’t get her room anyway. He’d get the hotel’s front desk, wouldn’t he? Her heart was racing, her hands were shaking, and her blood pressure must be sky-high. She wasn’t cut out for undercover work.