Temperature's Rising (17 page)

“Yum, yum. You hit the jackpot with that one, sweetie.” She glanced at Jessica and apparently noted her less-than-happy expression. “Oh hell, you better get used to those kinds of looks from women. You just keep him happy in that big, heart-shaped love nest.” She motioned toward their bed. “He won’t even think about straying. Of course, if y’all are into swapping . . .”

“We’re not.” If it weren’t for her father’s career and the fact that this marriage happened to be a farce, Jessica 144

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would throw the slut out. But it wasn’t real, this wasn’t her home, and Conor wasn’t her husband.

“That green-eyed devil sure did sink his claws in you, honey. No harm asking.”

Jealous? Her, jealous? The idea was ludicrous. She hardly knew the man. Trudy was way off the mark.

Her thoughts jumbled about inside her head. Sure he had a devilishly sexy grin, and he was built . . . a deep sigh escaped . . . very nicely.

She squared her shoulders. He was still a cop, and she wasn’t about to get involved with him.

“Honey?” Trudy snapped her fingers. “Where’d you go?”

Jessica pulled herself back to the present. “I’m sorry.

What were you saying?”

“Just that you don’t have to worry about me and your husband. George wouldn’t go for swapping, anyway.

Man’s so damned jealous he can’t see straight.” She patted her platinum-blond curls. “ ’Course, he knows I’d better not catch him looking at another woman, either.”

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about anyone stealing him.” No other woman would have him.

“Thanks, honey.” Trudy preened, misinterpreting the comment for a compliment. “All that Italian charm draws women like a fly to shit. They can’t resist him.” A shiver of distaste swept over Jessica. She pushed back the nausea and tried to focus on the reason why she was even talking to this woman. “I hope he has the kind of job that doesn’t put him in the path of many predators.” Trudy’s hand flew to her chest. “Wouldn’t that be scary? I’m lucky, though. He works mostly at night.

They’re movers. His father and half brother live with us.

They’re not Italian like my George. The old geezer is all American.”

She strolled in front of the open closet, her fingers running over the clothes hanging inside. Scrunching her TEMPERATURE’S RISING

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nose, she looked at Jessica. “Honey, we’ve got to go shopping. Put a little pizzazz in your wardrobe.” She reached up and touched the large, sparkling bangles dangling from her ears.

Now might be a good time to change the subject back to the Meredith men. She’d do a lot for her father, but dress like Trudy? She didn’t think so. Besides, Trudy might be in on the burglaries. Even if she weren’t, maybe she’d unknowingly let something slip.

“So, it’s you, George, and your father-in-law? You also mentioned a brother?”

“Barry,” she said, looking like she’d just sunk her teeth into a lemon. “George had a different mother. A hot and spicy Italiano.” She cast Jessica a knowing glance. “You can tell, too. Good breeding shows.”

“So I’ve heard.” Jessica didn’t care about their parent-age. She wanted to know more about what they did for a living. As casually as she could, she asked her next question. “You say they work at night?”

“You seem awfully interested in what my George does.” Suspicion laced her words before she turned away.

Like Jell-O during an earthquake, Trudy jiggled to the mirror and adjusted her shirt, pulling down the front to better display her cleavage.

“Not really.” Jessica shrugged. “Just making conversation.” Did Trudy know about their illegal activities or was she afraid Jessica wanted George? Ugh! Revolting thought.

Trudy turned, her stare calculating.

“Conor’s away a lot at night, too.” Jessica’s words stumbled out. She couldn’t afford to have the other woman wondering why she was asking so many questions. “He has a pawnshop, you know, and does a lot of . . .

uh . . . restocking in the evening.” Jessica held her breath and prayed. Had she blown everything?

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I get a little touchy when it comes to George. He’s one hell of a man.” 146

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Play the game. If she could make a friend out of Trudy, she might slip and reveal something important.

Time to get inventive.

Jessica strolled to the mirror and stood by her. “Their stamina probably comes from the fact that they’re used to working most of the night.” Jessica reached for a tube of lipstick and slid the creamy red color over her lips. “But as long as they hand over the paycheck each week, I guess we can’t complain.”

Twirling around, Trudy’s eyes widened. She began to laugh. “I knew we were two peas in the same bucket!” She rolled her gaze heavenward. “George does like to spend his money on me.”

“Trudy!” A voice called from outside.

“Speak of the devil.” She giggled, hopped over to the window, and leaned out. “I’m up here, Pooh Bear.”

“That-sa the bedroom! Are you with another man?

What-sa matter with you? Do you not-a remember what I told you the last time?”

“Yes, speak of the devil,” Jessica murmured. She went and stood next to Trudy, wondering for a moment if she was seeing things.

No, that wasn’t a frog on her lawn. George wore a lime, Italian-cut suit. She had to shield her eyes from the glare when the sun’s rays bounced off the gold necklaces around his neck. As soon as he spotted her, his whole demeanor relaxed.

“Oh, I’m-a sorry. I did not-a know you were there with my little wife.”

“How can you accuse me of being unfaithful, George?” she yelled down. “After the last time, I told you I’d never look at another man. You’re all I need.” She swiped the back of her hand under her eyes and sniffed loudly. “And now you’re saying I’ve been unfaithful.” She sniffed again—louder.

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There wasn’t a bit of dampness on Trudy’s face that Jessica could see.

“Babycakes, I didn’t mean to say . . . what I thought . . .

uh . . .” His accent dropped completely as he tried to wiggle out of the mess he’d made for himself.

“I know exactly what you were thinking and none of it’s good! I’m going home to Mother.”

“No!” He glanced around as if an idea would drop from one of the trees. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers and looked back at the window. “But,
mio amore,
I wanted to take-a you shopping.”

“Really?” Trudy sounded skeptical.

“But of course,
mio bel amore.
”

“Well, okay then. I’ll be down in a few minutes, honey bunny.”

George heaved a big sigh of relief. Turning, Trudy grinned and winked at Jessica. “That little performance should be good for a diamond bracelet at the very least.”

“At least,” she mumbled.

“Tell you what. Bring that scrumptious husband of yours over to the house Saturday night and I’ll introduce you to the rest of the clan. I’ll get George to grill some steaks.”

“Yes, sure. That’d be great.” Jessica followed her out of the room and down the stairs, not believing her luck.

She’d have the chance to look around their home and might even discover the missing tape and some of the other stolen merchandise. She could be in her own bed by Sunday night.

The thought should’ve brought a sigh of relief, but it didn’t. She had to admit, if only to herself, she rather liked playing house with Conor. She shut the door behind Trudy and leaned her forehead against it, closing her eyes.

“I warned you about going outside without my protec-tion. Now see what you’ve done?” 148

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Her eyes flew open, then narrowed as she slowly turned. “I just happened to get an invitation to their house, which is more than you’ve done.”

“We’re not here to interact with them. And even if we were, it still doesn’t change the facts. What if it’d been one of the men instead of Trudy?” He glared at her, his stance rigid. “What would’ve happened then? From now on I don’t want you leaving without me.” Anger began to burn inside her. “Is that right?”

“Yes, it is. Now if you don’t mind, I’ll get back to watching the suspects’ house.” He turned on his heel and marched into the living room.

She tried to slow her breathing, but it was impossible.

Did he expect her to automatically follow his orders like some flunky? She glanced around the foyer, her gaze landing on his car keys. Scooping them up, along with her shirt, she grabbed her purse from the hall closet and eased out the front door. She needed time away from him to get her thoughts in order. If not, she’d be calling 9-1-1 to remove his lifeless body.

A half hour later she could still feel the pressure bubbling inside her. Even the quiet serenity of the park where she’d stopped did little to calm her frayed nerves.

What had she expected from Conor? A pat on the back because she had an invitation into the suspects’ home?

She ran her fingernail over the steering wheel. Would it have hurt him so much to say she’d done a good job?

The cell phone inside her purse rang. She smiled.

Maybe he’d realized his anger had been unjustified. She reached inside her purse and retrieved the purple phone, flipping it open.

“Yes?”

“Hello, darling,” came Al’s voice over the phone.

“Your boss said you were taking a few days off. Nothing wrong, I hope?”

Disappointment flooded her. Al. It was only Al. “No, TEMPERATURE’S RISING

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nothing serious.” Her mind searched for a plausible reason to give him. “Just a lot of little things that needed doing.

Like the dent in my car.” At least the last part was true.

“Then how about meeting me for coffee? I’ve missed you. Or I could come by your apartment.” She liked Al, but the thought of being completely alone with him didn’t appeal to her. He wanted more from their relationship than she was ready to give. But he was a good friend. What harm would it do if she did have coffee? “I’m actually downtown doing a few errands, so why don’t I meet you?”

Somewhere far away from the suspects so she didn’t take a chance running into Trudy twice in one day. That wouldn’t be good.

They agreed on a spot, and fifteen minutes later, she entered the small café. He waved and stood when she looked his way.

“Oh . . . have you been out jogging?” She cringed, not liking his tone. “Earlier.”

“Well, never mind. This certainly isn’t a five-star restaurant, and it seems like months since I’ve seen you.” He smiled before lightly kissing her lips.

The warmth of his touch should’ve made her feel better. It didn’t. Guilt washed over her instead. Her gaze skittered around the crowded room. The little old lady sitting in the next booth over had a knowing look on her face.

Was that man leering at her?

What was wrong with her? The way she acted, anyone would think she was really married to Conor. Darn it, she wasn’t carrying on an illicit affair. If she wanted to take a lover, she could. She slid into the booth, head held high.

She had nothing to be ashamed of.

“Why so tense?” Al scooted into the booth across from her and took her hands in his.

She jumped. “Tense?” Her laugh sounded strangled.

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

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His hands were soft and warm against hers. So unlike the rough texture of the ones that had scooped her up and carried her inside the house.

“I . . . I haven’t been sleeping well at night.” At least that was close to the truth. She’d tossed and turned all night long, thinking about Conor’s naked body . . . his arms pulling her close.

“Tell me about it.”

Not likely!

She took a deep breath and tried to pull herself together. Al’s eyes were full of concern. Here was a man any woman would be happy to fall in love with. Why couldn’t she?

“Nothing, really.” She decided telling a half truth would be better than an out-and-out lie. “My father is really stressed over the burglaries. The mayor is putting a lot of pressure on him to find the suspects.”

“I still can’t believe they were gutsy enough to rob his house—and in broad daylight. I bet that made the mayor feel like a jerk.”

The waitress interrupted their conversation when she brought coffee over.

“I ordered for both of us,” Al explained.

Always the gentleman. She moved her hands from his and brought the cup to her lips.

“I feel bad,” Al continued after the waitress left.

“Why?” She took a drink and set her cup back on the saucer, looking into his worried eyes.

“Well, you showed me his home before it was officially on the market. What if I inadvertently let something slip about the mayor wanting to sell his house or about his alarm system?” He ran a hand through his well-groomed hair. “I don’t know. I just feel in some way like I’m responsible for your father’s added problems.”

“I showed his home to a lot of prospective buyers after we listed it, and everyone knew he was speaking at the TEMPERATURE’S RISING

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American Legion Hall that morning. You have nothing to feel guilty about. In fact, you should be commended for wanting to move to a bigger home so your mother will be more comfortable.”

She’d never seen him this distraught before. He must care more than she realized. She reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

“She just hasn’t been as happy living in my cramped apartment. She loves to work in a garden and that’s just not possible where I live now, but since my father passed

. . .” He closed his eyes for a moment, then drew in a ragged breath before continuing. “It’s been almost a year, and Mother needs the stability a house would give her.” Why couldn’t she love Al? He was such a good man.

Maybe she could at least lessen some of his guilt. “Listen, I can’t go into any details, but it may be over soon.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I can’t talk about it.

Just trust me.”

He relaxed. “How could I not when you look at me like that?”

You’re a fool
, Jessica admonished herself. Here was a man who made his intentions very plain. He’d like to take their relationship to the next level, but she couldn’t make a commitment. Al was exactly what she wanted in a man. Successful and happy. Sweet and attentive to her every need. He was perfect. But not for her, and she knew that now.