Simon Says (21 page)

That fantasy redirected his anger and gave him time to think.

To lessen their odds of being caught, they'd driven to Harmony separately, then hooked up to ride together to the bar. They hadn't used his car—he wasn't stupid. If anyone caught the license plates, they wouldn't lead to him and neither of his cronies had the cojones to point the finger at him.

They knew he'd kill without remorse.

The driver pulled over to the crowded convenience store so Marvin could reclaim his sports car. He got out, but instead of walking away, he tapped on the passenger-side window of the SUV.

Still holding his bleeding ear and looking pathetic, his friend rolled down the window.

Marvin gave him a friendly slap on the face. “Go home. No bars, no women. I mean it. I don't want either of you to fuck around or get into any trouble.”

“All right.”

Nodding, Marvin said, “You did good. Thanks.”

Both men grinned at him, grabbing at the small token of appreciation like starving dogs.

His smile frozen, Marvin walked away before he got sick. Or enraged.

Once in his own car, he dialed his cell phone. Barnaby answered on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Thanks to me, you should be hearing from your darling stepdaughter soon.”

“Marvin?” The voice went gruff with suspicion and alarm. “What the hell did you do now?”

Stupid Barnaby. He thought himself so ruthless with his gambling habit and occasional fits of temper, but he didn't have the guts it took to play real hardball. In fact, if he hadn't taken matters into his own hands, Barnaby would still be married to that prissy, complaining bitch and living in middle-class squalor.

“I just offered the gal a little inspiration, that's all.”

Marvin heard a gulp. “Did you…?”

“Kill her?” He laughed at the thought. “There are a lot of things I want to do to Dakota, but offing her isn't one of them. Not yet anyway. Not till I get my fill.”

“Haven't you done enough?” Barnaby snarled, and that made Marvin laugh.

“You have balls, Barnaby. I'm impressed.” His voice hardened. “But don't shove aside the blame. You owe me big-time. We both know this is the only way you'll be able to pay, so don't blow it or the next time I visit, it won't just be your furniture I break.”

“I accept my part in this mess.”

“Lighten up, man. You should be hearing from Dakota soon.” His ex-wife was nothing if not protective of others. Look at how she'd gone running back to that bitch mother of hers. Marvin shook his head. “When you hear from her, take the credit and she'll hand the fighter over to you.”

Barnaby didn't ask for what he should take credit. He said only, “You sound sure of yourself.”

“I always am.” Marvin closed his phone and tossed it on the leather seat beside him. Dakota might think herself tough, but when it came right down to it, he knew she was still just a sad, lonely, and scared little girl.

She couldn't bear to see anyone hurt, especially not one of her few friends. She'd deliver Simon, all right. Then Barnaby would get the money he owed. He'd get his debt cleared.

And Marvin would get so much more.

T
WO
hours of talking and comparing hadn't lent them any more clarity to the situation. Barber only knew that there'd been three men of medium height, one of them muscular, the other two soft from overindulgence. He didn't know what they wanted, only that they'd intended no good.

He and Simon both thought the incidents were related.

Dakota knew they were.

They both assumed it was Marvin behind the attacks.

Dakota didn't have a single doubt.

While the two of them chewed over possibilities, she acted blasé, but she knew what she had to do. And soon. She wouldn't let Barber be hurt. She wouldn't let anyone be hurt because of her.

In the two hours that they talked, Bonnie started to sober enough to become a bigger pain in the butt. She alternately wanted to cry on Simon, make out with him, or accuse him.

And when she wasn't doing that, she stayed busy glaring at Dakota and calling her names that were too incomprehensible to make out.

It amazed Dakota that even after tying one on and surviving an assault, Bonnie still looked polished in a way Dakota could never be.

Her nylons weren't torn. Not a speck of dirt marred her pale skin. Her dress fit impeccably. Other than missing her lipstick and her hair now hanging loose, Bonnie looked the same as she did when she'd started the night. If she'd keep her mouth shut and sit still, it'd be hard to know she was drunk.

That Simon wore only his flannel pants hadn't gone unnoticed by Bonnie. She'd spent more time gazing longingly at him than drinking the coffee that Barber kept putting in front of her.

Dakota tried to ignore Bonnie's fascination with Simon, but it wasn't easy. Knowing that she'd come running to Simon, and knowing that Simon had once cared enough to spend five years of his life with the woman, worked on Dakota's temper.

Just as the earliest rays of sunrise crawled through the window, Bonnie seemed to fall asleep. She even started to snore.

Barber half smiled at her, then glanced at Simon. “Think she'll remember any of this?”

“I don't know. I've never seen her drunk before.”

“I don't think anyone was trying to hurt her. She was just with me.”

“And you're Dakota's friend.”

Barber nodded. “Marvin's a real pain in the ass. He's continued to harass her since the divorce. Slashed car tires, rocks through a window, a lot of chicken-shit stuff like that.”

“No way to prove it's him?”

“Not so far. The thing is, he doesn't much like for Dakota to have friends, but he knows we're close. He's seen her onstage with me.” Barber rubbed at his now bristly chin. “A while back, he was hanging out at this bar where we had a week run. He'd sit in the audience and wait for her.”

Dakota could feel Simon watching her, but she gave her attention to her coffee mug. She didn't want him to know how Marvin affected her.

“What came of it?” Simon asked.

“He hassled me a few times,” Dakota admitted. “He likes to intimidate people.”

“Especially you?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. He'd wait until I was alone in the hall, or he'd slip into the back room with me. Then he'd try to crowd me. He'd say a few veiled threats, make a few threatening promises. That sort of thing.”

Simon looked at Barber, who said, “I didn't realize what was going on at first.”

Just remembering it made Dakota's stomach turn. “He could never follow through because it was a public place. Marvin can punk out some people, but not a packed bar where half the men there would take pleasure in a brawl.”

“So he finally went away?” Simon asked.

Barber nodded. “After I had a talk with him.”

That was news to Dakota. She looked up to find Barber watching her, too. “What did you do?” she asked.

“I told him if he touched you, I'd take him apart.”

She sucked in a breath, then shoved back her chair. “You never told me.”

“No, I didn't.”

Flattening her hands on the table, Dakota leaned toward him. “You had no business doing that.”

“Bullshit.” Barber looked more tired than riled. “No man would sit by while that jerk bullied you.”

Dakota laughed, because one man had: Barnaby. “You should have stayed out of it.”

Simon asked, “Should I stay out of it, too?”

“Yes.”
Appalled at her raised voice, Dakota reined herself in. “For God's sake, I don't mean to yell, but this is ridiculous. We don't even know for sure if it was Marvin. But if it was, I'll take care of it.”

Simon tipped his head at her. “How?”

She flattened her mouth. “I don't know yet. But I think maybe talking to the police is a good idea after all.” And talking to Barnaby was an even better idea. It seemed too much of a coincidence that both Barnaby and Marvin would reappear in her life at the same time. She had no idea what the connection might be, but once Barnaby knew she wouldn't play, no matter what, he'd have no choice but to withdraw.

With both men staring at her, Dakota reseated herself. “Look, I'll be extra cautious. I won't take any chances. But there's no point in either of you getting caught in the middle of the mess.”

Simon said, “I hope you're joking.”

“She's not,” Barber told him. “She's worrying because someone tried to hurt me. She wants to
protect
me.”

“Huh.” Simon frowned. “That's kind of insulting, isn't it?”

“Yeah. Like she thinks she can take better care of this stuff than I can.”

Dakota wanted to kick them both. “It's not about who's more macho, damn it. This is my problem, that's all I'm saying.”

“No,” Simon said. “You're not responsible for what your ex might do.”

“Then I'll just go home.” Dakota reached for the coffeepot, found it empty, and slumped in disappointment. She needed more caffeine. “If I'm not here, the problems won't be here. End of story.”

Ignoring most of what she'd said, Simon pointed out, “That was the second pot.”

“You're keeping count?”

“Dakota does like her java.” Barber saluted Simon with his mug. “We have that in common.”

Simon nodded at the jelly jar on the table. “You both like your sugar, too.”

Because Simon's kitchen didn't boast any cookies or other sweet treats, she and Barber had chowed down several pieces of toast and jelly with their coffee.

Simon drank water.

His eating and drinking habits might be the biggest obstacle to her comfort when visiting him.

Dakota no sooner had that thought than Bonnie roused herself. She looked around the table at everyone. Except for her bloodshot eyes, she looked beautiful. She finger-combed her long, dark hair away from her face and over her shoulders. With determination bright in her expression, she stumbled over to stand by Simon's chair.

Simon glanced up at her.

Barber looked over his coffee mug at her.

Dakota considered throwing the empty carafe at her.

Now that Bonnie had everyone's attention, she pointed a finger at Dakota. “You're des-pic-able.”

She barely got the word out, and Dakota yawned.

“Bonnie,” Simon warned. “Don't start.”

Bonnie put a hand on his bare shoulder, either to caress him or to help balance herself. “Iz all right, Simon. She haz to know that you're in trainin' for a very important fight.”

Simon looked at Dakota, but said nothing.

Bonnie curled her lip in Dakota's direction. “Gettin' involved with someone like
her
jeopardizes everythin' you've worked for.”

“Don't worry about it, Bonnie.”

That's it?
Dakota thought. That was Simon's idea of defending her? Not that she needed him to defend her, but he could have done a better job of it.

Dakota straightened in her chair.

Smoothing her hand over Simon's shoulder to his neck, Bonnie began massaging him. “You need someone who understands wha' you do.”

“Dakota understands.” He smiled at her. “Don't you, honey?”

Dakota's eyes narrowed. She'd about had enough of Bonnie.

“If she understood,” Bonnie insisted, “she wouldn't be here.”

“I invited her.”

Dakota could feel Barber's amusement, the jerk.

“You're a man,” Bonnie declared, excusing Simon of any responsibility. “But you barely know her. It iz incredible that she woul' spen' the night with you already.”

Barber choked on his coffee, wheezed for breath, and coughed out a loud, obviously forced, laugh.

With the precision of a laser beam, Bonnie's gaze drilled into him. “And just
what
iz so funny?”

“Oh, come on, darlin'. You don't see the irony of you playing judge and jury?”

Bonnie drew herself up to her full height. “I see nothin' humorous in thiz situation at all.”

As if he mourned the loss of a fine attribute, Barber muttered, “And to think I used to be such a gentleman.” He met Bonnie's gaze. “All right, doll, let me point out the obvious.”

“I don' see—”

“You and I just met today, but you were headed home with me. And it sure as hell wasn't to play checkers.”

Watching Simon, Dakota saw his expression of boredom.