The Rocky Road to Romance (10 page)

“Nope. I work for the radio station. I'm her bodyguard.”

“And what about the two policemen sitting in that drab little car outside?”

“They're guarding her body, too,” Elsie said. “They were assigned after the firebombing.”

“Firebombing?” Maria Crow arched her delicate black eyebrows.

Steve and Daisy were scrambling to add place settings and get Steve's father seated. They paused and exchanged horrified glances. “It was only one bomb, and it was very small,” Steve said. “Hardly worth mentioning.” He handed his mother a glass of red wine. “What do you think of my house?”

She sipped her wine and thoughtfully studied the room. “It's nice. Not too big, not too small. I've never been especially fond of suburbia and tract houses, but this house has a friendly feeling to it. It even has a dog.” She looked over at Bob. He'd finished his spaghetti and was eating a bowl of salad. “He is a dog, isn't he? He's not some small person dressed up in a dog suit?”

“We were just discussing that,” Steve said. “We aren't actually sure.”

Maria smiled at Daisy and Elsie. “Steve always wanted a dog, but our lifestyle never lent itself to house pets. Looking at it in retrospect, I probably should have rearranged our lifestyle for a while.”

“I was one of those overprivileged deprived children,” Steve said to Daisy. “I was forced to spend all of my time skiing and sailing.”

Maria smiled at her son. “I know you enjoyed the skiing and sailing, but I think deep down inside you would rather have had a dog.”

“As you can see I'm making up for lost time. I've got Bob now.”

Bob looked up when his name was mentioned and a piece of lettuce fell out of his mouth.

“We have to work on his table manners,” Steve said.

“All things considered they're not so bad,” his mother said. “He's neater than your Uncle Lou.”

That brought a smile to Joseph Crow's lips. “I'm going to tell Lou you said that,” he chided his wife.

Maria looked at her husband and laughed, and Daisy realized that theirs was a rock-solid
relationship. There was genuine affection here, Daisy decided. Uncle Lou was undoubtedly one of a myriad of family jokes and shared experiences that helped compose the strata of a long and successful marriage.

By outward appearances the Crows were sleek and casually aloof, as only the superrich could be. On closer examination there was a warm intimacy between them, a pulsing vitality, and strength, all the qualities that she found so compelling and so intimidating in Steve.

Steve smiled with his parents. Uncle Lou, being the shortest, loudest, and most flamboyant member of the Crow clan, had provided ample fodder for years' worth of jokes and table conversation.

When Daisy finished her dissertation he wanted to take her west to meet the rest of his family. He wanted her to meet Lou and his grandfather Crow, his great-aunt Lucy and her twelve cats, and his cousin Danny, who was the same age as Steve but already had five kids. There were Crows spread all over the Southwest, and then there was his mother's family in
Los Angeles and the San Fernando Valley. His mother's birth certificate had read Maria Louise Helena de Ortega. The wealth and prestige of the Californio had long since disappeared, but the pride and beautiful dark eyes had survived.

“So what are you folks doing here?” Elsie asked. “Do you live nearby?”

Maria shook her head. “No. We were in Monterey when Joseph's sister, Zena, called and said Steve was living with a beautiful young woman who was single-handedly ridding Washington of crime. I knew you wouldn't be living together if you didn't intend to get married soon, so we flew back to congratulate you both on your engagement. We wanted to welcome you to the family,” Maria said, turning to Daisy. “We were delighted to learn Steve had finally fallen in love.”

Steve sat back in his chair. He was being manipulated. His mother had flown east to size things up and see if she could push him into marriage. She wasn't usually a meddling mother, but when he had hit thirty she started making frustrated-grandmother noises.

Daisy felt the sudden flush of heat on her cheeks. Steve's parents had flown two thousand miles to meet a fraud. She and Steve weren't getting engaged, and she wasn't Wonder Woman.

Maria's eyes strayed to Daisy's ringless hand. “I see you haven't gotten a ring yet.”

Steve sighed. “Mom, I hate to disappoint you, but—”

“But it was so sudden,” Daisy said, interrupting. “And Steve had just bought this house and a new car, and I thought it seemed extravagant to spend money on a ring, too. You know how easy it is to have cash-flow problems.”

Daisy's heart pounded in her chest. She couldn't believe her ears. She'd gotten herself engaged! She was totally horrified. She could almost hear Steve's eyebrows raise and was afraid to look around at him. It was the sigh, she told herself. No woman could fail to respond to a Steve Crow sigh. It happened so seldom and held such endearing vulnerability. And then there were his parents…they were so
nice. Daisy, Daisy, Daisy,
she chanted to herself,
you are truly screwed up.

His mother withdrew a small velvet box from her black lizardskin purse. “I'm so glad I brought this. I wasn't sure if it would be appreciated, but since you don't already have a ring, perhaps you would consider an heirloom.” She passed the box to Steve. “This belonged to your great-grandmother de Ortega. It's a very fine stone. You could have it put into a new setting.”

Steve opened the box and studied the ring. “I remember seeing this in your jewelry box. I always thought it was very beautiful. When I was a kid I imagined it had once belonged to Scrooge McDuck.”

“You weren't far off,” his mother said, laughing. “At one time the Ortegas were outrageously wealthy.”

Steve took Daisy's hand. Their eyes caught and held. His fingers were warm and firm as they wrapped around hers. His voice was soft with a hint of the devil in it as he asked, “Will you accept this ring as a symbol of our engagement?”

Daisy swallowed loud enough for it to be heard all the way to the kitchen. It was the largest diamond she'd ever seen, set into an exquisite
gold filigree setting. She stared awestruck at the ring and ruefully admitted that her psych professors would have a field day interpreting her reasons for placing herself in this predicament.

Steve gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and she realized everyone was waiting for her answer. She nodded yes because she didn't trust her voice. He slid the ring onto her finger, and her eyes misted over. It was a perfect fit.

She looked up and gave Maria Crow a shaky smile. “It's lovely. Thank you.”

Later when they were alone in the kitchen assembling the brownies, Steve caught Daisy's hand and studied the ring. “Ordinarily when a woman becomes engaged it's with the intention of getting married.”

“Ordinarily.”

“Maybe I should set the date when we go back to the table. Or better yet, maybe we should just go out and get married while my parents are in town.”

Her eyes widened in alarm. “You wouldn't dare suggest such a thing. That would be so rotten!”

He took a brownie from the fancy glass dish and nibbled on it. “I'd suggest it in a heartbeat. I'm not necessarily averse to being rotten and sneaky if the cause is just.”

“I'm going to keep that in mind.”

He trapped her against a counter and kissed her. “Live in fear. I'm a desperate man.”

“You'd better be careful. I have a bodyguard.”

“You forget, I pay her salary.” He lowered his mouth to hers and his thumb inched across her rib cage until it was firmly pressed into the soft flesh of her breast.

“Is this an example of your sneakiness?” she whispered against his lips.

He feigned indignant ignorance. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“You know very well. I'm talking about your thumb.”

“Oh, that.” The thumb lazily drew erotic circles. “Mmmm, I suppose my thumb is a little sneaky.” He kissed her slowly and deeply while his fingers continued to massage. He watched her eyes drop closed, felt her body go pliant in his arms. “Do you remember the
kitchen table?” he asked, his words raspy against the shell of her ear.

She gave an involuntary shudder. Yes, she definitely remembered the kitchen table. She would remember it in excruciatingly delicious detail for the rest of her life.

“The kitchen table was just a warm-up. Someday when you're least expecting it I'm going to make love to you…on the ironing board.”

Her eyes flew open.

“We'll experiment with fruit and cooking oil and household appliances…the electric shoe buffer, the electric toothbrush, the waffle iron.”

“Oh, my Lord.”

“And that's only the beginning, baby. I'm going to make love to you in the broom closet. I'm going to ravage you on the washing machine. I'm going to do naughty things to you with my barbecue equipment.”

They were both red-faced and convulsed with laughter when Elsie swung through the kitchen door. “What are you doing in here?” she asked. “We've been waiting forever for them brownies.”

Daisy straightened and gasped for breath, trying to sober herself. “Here you go,” she said, handing the plate over to Elsie. “I'm right behind you with the coffee.” She grabbed the pot and shook her head at Steve. “You're a pervert, and if I catch you buying a waffle iron, I'm calling the police.”

Steve watched Daisy drag her belongings down the stairs and pile them up in the foyer. “So you're still determined to move back into your town house.”

“Yup.”

“I was only kidding about the waffle iron.”

“This has nothing to do with the waffle iron. This has to do with breathing space, making intelligent decisions, being self-reliant.”

Tonight's dinner was proof absolute that she had to get away from Steve. She wasn't a rational person when she was around him. She had only to look at her ring finger to be reminded of that fact. Steve's parents had left an hour ago, and the ring was growing heavier and heavier. The confused joy she'd first felt
was fast turning to gloomy disbelief. How could she possibly have managed to get herself engaged? She'd been so determined not to let this happen, and now she was dragging a diamond the size of Mount McKinley around on her finger.

“How about breakfast?” Steve asked. “Will you be over for breakfast?”

Kevin's face brightened. “Yeah, we'll be here for breakfast.”

“Breakfast would be nice,” Elsie admitted. “I wouldn't mind stopping in for breakfast.”

“You're being sneaky again,” Daisy said to Steve.

“You ain't seen nothin' yet.”

 

By the end of the week Daisy was forced to admit it didn't matter which house she lived in—she couldn't get away from Steve. She'd had to rely on him for transportation since the two stolen cars had never turned up. In addition, he lured her fickle brother and bodyguard to his house with food, rented movies, a new pool table, dartboard, and pinball machine. There were late-night poker games, gourmet
picnic lunches in the park, and midnight pizza orgies.

In her weaker moments Daisy had to concede she was thoroughly enjoying herself. During more somber times she referred to her calendar and grimly added up the days when she hadn't worked on her dissertation or put in hours at the nursing home.

That was okay, she told herself. Everybody deserves a vacation once in a while, and hers was about to end. It was Friday. There hadn't been any incidents since last Sunday, and the police were talking about ending her round-the-clock protection tomorrow. Tomorrow was also the day her parents were due to arrive home.

By this time tomorrow night she'd be alone in her town house. Her life would be back to normal. She'd buckle down to work, complete her dissertation, and finish up her internship at the nursing home. Then what? She didn't know. She didn't want to think about it. When she tried to imagine her life beyond her thesis, her mind went blank. She imagined thirty years of counseling the elderly on problems
that were largely unsolvable. In the past two months three patients she'd come to love had died. There would be more in the future. Lots more. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes and bowed her head.

Steve came to her side. “Something wrong?”

“Smog,” she said, blinking to clear eyes that were smarting with tears.

He didn't believe her, but he let it go. He'd learned he couldn't force her to discuss her problems. After the amusement-park confession she'd closed up tight, keeping all her hurt and confusion locked away inside. Head-inthe-sand syndrome, he thought. Besides, it could very well be smog. The air quality wasn't all that great. Washington emptied out early on Fridays in the summer. By six o'clock the acrid yellow smog caused by traffic settled in the humid air and was replaced by a more savory cloud rising from hundreds of thousands of suburban barbecues. The mesquite haze hanging over Northern Virginia backyards smelled better, but it caught you in the back of the throat all the same.

Steve stood at his grill, ready to make his
Friday-night contribution to air pollution. He struck a match and adjusted the gas jets. He watched the lava rocks heat. At the appropriate moment he deposited his hamburger patties on the grill and stepped back. There was a giant whoosh of flame, the hamburger patties were instantly incinerated into ash, and the fire returned to normal intensity.

Kevin made a disgusted noise, Daisy shook her head in disbelief, and Elsie stepped forward to get a closer look at the hamburger cinders.

“I haven't never seen you cook an edible hamburger yet on this thing,” Elsie said to Steve. “If it was me, I would've given up long ago.”

Steve took the spatula with the extralong redwood handle, the spatula he'd bought especially for his barbecue, and threw it into his neighbor's yard.

“Feel better?” Daisy asked.

He gave her a sheepish grin. “Yup. What do you say we all pile in the car and go buy some burgers?”

“Good thing the SUV's fixed,” Elsie said
when they got to the driveway. “We'd never all fit in that racy black thing.”

Steve ran his hand over the front fender and walked around to the passenger side to look over the repairs. The body shop had done a good job. The Ford looked like new. “We're going for burgers,” he called to the two cops sitting in their car across the street.

Five minutes later they were all in line at McDonald's, except Bob. Bob sat perched on the backseat of the Ford Explorer, eyes and ears alert, watching his family through the large plate-glass windows.

The two cops had ordered first. They stood at the door in obvious boredom, bags of food dangling from their fingertips, waiting for Daisy. The younger one was small and wiry. His name was Koselle. His partner was older, paunchy but still fit. Koselle cracked the lid to his large coffee, added creamer, and sipped the coffee without tasting.

Elsie was the last to give her order. “Double cheeseburger, lots of grease, large fries, and one of them gut-bustin' vanilla milk shakes,” she said to the girl behind the counter. She shouldered
her pocketbook and turned to Daisy. “I don't know why I keep getting them milk shakes. Last time I had to suck so hard I gave myself a headache.”

“Maybe you should have gotten a soda.”

“Well, the milk shakes taste so dang good,” she said. “Besides, I like a challenge. All them yuppies are out there joining spas and working on them fancy machines to keep in shape. I just buy a couple of these milk shakes every week and try to suck them up through a straw. Keeps my stomach muscles hard as a rock.” Her eyes opened wide and her mouth fell open as she stared out the big front window. “Will you look at that!” she said with a gasp of amazement. “It's my Caddy!”

Everyone turned in time to see the powder blue rear fender disappear around the side of the building.

“I'll be a son of a gun!” Elsie shouted. “What nerve!” She snatched the keys to the Ford from Steve's back pocket and ran outside.
“Stop!”
she shouted, but the Cadillac was already turning onto Burke Center Parkway. Elsie jumped into the Explorer, cranked over the engine, and
was halfway out of the parking space when Kevin, Daisy, and Steve reached the car and wrenched the doors open. Elsie paused for a second while everyone piled in, then she gunned the Ford and took off.

Koselle was a few beats behind, steering with one hand, sticking the flasher to the roof of his car with the other. He swore at the coffee stains on his slacks and told his partner to radio in.

The older man paused with the two-way in his hand. “What'll I tell them?”

“Hell, tell them we're in pursuit of some crazy old lady who's chasing an old Cadillac.”

Elsie tore down the road after her Cadillac. Kevin, Bob, and Daisy were in the backseat. Bob had his head out the window, his ears were flapping vigorously, his eyes were narrowed to slits. Steve had his seat belt pulled tight in the front seat. His hand was braced against the dash. “Slow down,” he said to Elsie. “Let the police take over.”

“Hah!” Elsie shouted. “Them police are a bunch of wimps. They lost these slimebags last time.” She slammed the gas pedal to the floor,
and the SUV jumped forward. “Get my gun out of my pocketbook. Shoot out the tires, but be careful of the bumper. I like to keep the chrome nice and shiny.”

“This isn't Dodge City,” Steve shouted back at her. “I can't just go around shooting out people's tires!”

“Well hell, they're my tires,” she said. “I guess you can shoot them if I want you to.”

Elsie moved up fast in the left lane and came up behind the Cadillac. There were two men in the car. The one in the passenger seat turned and leveled a gun at the Explorer.

“Holy cow!” Elsie said. She swerved right, and a bullet zinged off the roof.

Two blue-and-white cruisers raced into place behind Koselle. The Cadillac cut off into a subdivision and barreled down narrow tree-lined streets. Elsie, Koselle, and the two squad cars followed.

Elsie hunched over the wheel, her eyes fixed on the men in front of her. Her knuckles were white, her mouth pinched together. “Sure wish I was driving my Caddy,” she said. “They wouldn't stand a chance if I was in my Caddy.”

The Cadillac turned left, and everyone realized at once that it had made a grave error. It had turned into a cul-de-sac. All the cars slammed on their brakes leaving skid marks the length of the road. The Cadillac jumped the curb and did a 180-degree turn before stopping on a patch of lawn. Elsie hit it broadside. Koselle sideswiped the front of the Cadillac and the two blue-and-whites slid into the tangle of smashed cars.

Seat belts yanked tight, and air bags exploded. Bob flew off the backseat with a yelp but instantly righted himself when he discovered the bag of burgers and fries Steve had carried out with him.

“What a mess,” Elsie said, fighting to deflate her air bag. She slowly moved her head and flexed her fingers. “I don't think I broke anything.”

“That was so cool,” Kevin said. “Wait'll I tell the guys. They're never gonna believe this.”

Steve put his shoulder to the door and shoved it open. He gently pulled Daisy from the backseat and wrapped her in his arms.

“I was scared,” Daisy said. “I was scared. Boy, was I ever scared. I was really scared.”

He gave her a little shake. “You're all right now.”

“Yeah, but I was scared.”

It was odd, she thought. She'd been frightened when her house had been broken into, and when Steve's house had been firebombed, and when the Cadillac had tried to smash them into the guardrail. She'd been rattled on those occasions, but she hadn't been terrified—not like this. When the passenger in the Cadillac had turned around and pointed a gun at her, she'd felt her heart go cold.

She rested her head on Steve's shoulder and let his warmth and strength seep into her. Sometimes people needed to come close to losing something before they understood its value, Daisy thought. Her life might not be perfect right now, but the imperfections seemed much less significant. There were parts of her life that were very special; there were people in her life that were very wonderful. And there was always the opportunity to make things better. Changing direction no longer seemed so depressing.

Koselle and the uniformed officers had the
two men out of the Cadillac and on the ground. An ambulance and more police cars whined in the distance.

“I would've gone and helped them make the collar,” Elsie said, “but I can't move so fast, what with my steel hip.”

Kevin grinned at her. “Hey, don't worry about it. You were awesome. Man, you smashed right into them. You really gave them a shot.”

“Yeah, I guess I was pretty good,” Elsie agreed.

The two men were carted off, and everyone crowded around the cars to assess the damage. The SUV was smashed front and rear. Doors were buckled, steam hissed from the radiator, and the hood looked like an accordion. Koselle's car had caught the front of the Cadillac, and the entire right front quarter panel of the cop car had been ripped off. The two blue-and-whites were totaled. Miraculously, no one had been seriously hurt. The Cadillac didn't have a dent.

“They just don't make cars like they used to,” Elsie said.

Twenty-four hours later, Daisy, Steve, and Bob sat on the front stoop of Daisy's town house and watched the sun set into the trees behind Lula Kaplan's brick duplex. The parking lot seemed oddly empty to Daisy. There were no undercover squad cars, no policemen on surveillance.

The mystery of her harassment had been solved. Just as they'd all suspected, it hadn't been the Roach. It had been the work of a rival drug dealer who'd hoped to pin additional charges on the Roach and get him off the street for good. Elsie's Cadillac had finally been returned, but that, too, was missing from the lot. Elsie had gone home. She was no longer on twenty-four-hour duty. At least she would see Elsie on Monday, Daisy thought. Steve had decided that she and Elsie made a good traffic team and had changed Elsie's job description to temporary assistant traffic reporter.

The town house was silent behind her. No stereo blasting away, no television, no refrigerator door opening and closing. Her parents had come home from Texas and collected
Kevin. She was alone, and her life was tidy again, she told herself. The realization provoked a flutter of excitement in her chest. Even if she never used her degree in geriatric counseling, she was determined to finish her thesis and defend it. She needed two months of hard work to get the job done, she'd decided.