Whirlwind (23 page)

“Didn’t I choose well?” Jason asked. “Would you rather have eggs?” He lifted a silver dome covering another plate on the coffee table, revealing a fluffy pile of yellow.

“No, this is fine.” I shoved the strawberry in my mouth, surprised when my stomach growled with gratitude. The rest of the pancakes disappeared quickly after that.

I poured myself a second cup of coffee and checked the officers bent over the bar, inspecting my credit card. “How’s it going, Detective?”

“We have several clear prints. When you’ve finished your breakfast, we’ll need to get your fingerprints for comparison. I’d also like you to inspect the contents to see if anything’s missing,” he said.

I grabbed a piece of bacon and nodded.

“I’ll also need your fingerprints, Mr. McAlister,” he added.

“That’s fine,” Jason said, finishing his breakfast. “Do you really think Melissa or her mother might be in danger?” he asked.

“Until we process the evidence, it’s hard to say. But this case bears a striking resemblance to another recent homicide in
L.A.
County
. The two may be related.” The detective looked at me. “I’d appreciate you not mentioning that in your article, Ms. Williams.”

The idea of writing about the murder had completely lost its appeal. “Don’t worry, Detective, I’m a little too close to this story to report it.” I wiped my hands on a napkin and walked over to the bar.

Officer Rodriguez snapped off his rubber gloves and smiled apologetically. “All finished. Sorry about the mess.” He’d brushed away most of the black fingerprint powder, but a small, dark cloud still floated above my things. “You really don’t keep much in your purse, do you?”

“This is my travel purse. Necessities only.”

Rodriguez raised his eyebrows.

“Yes, my regular one is bigger.” We shared a smile and then I found a paper towel under the bar to clean off my few belongings.

“Is everything there?” Detective
Clark
asked.

I surveyed the collection and squinted my eyes. Methodically, I reloaded my tiny purse. Money, credit cards, and license went in first; those were all in order. Makeup next…fine. Tissues, cell phone, keys.
What isn’t here?

“It feels like something’s missing, but I can’t figure out what it could be. Do you have a card, Detective, so I can contact you if it comes to me?”

He promptly fished two business cards out of his pocket and handed one to me and the other to Jason. “Call me at any time. My cell number is at the bottom. I think the only other thing we need is for you two to come down to the office and sit with the sketch artist. We’re trying to get the wedding photographer’s shots, but it’ll take time to sort through them all.”

“That’s fine, Detective, whatever we can do to…” Jason stopped when I threw my hands up and furiously dove back into my purse. “What is it?” he asked.

I held up one finger. Finding my cell phone, I flipped it open and started madly punching buttons. I paused, checked the detective’s card, then hit
Send
.

“I have something even better,” I said and proudly handed the phone to the detective. “Meet Ron.”

“Why do you have
him
on your phone, Melissa?” Jason stared at me in shock.

“Beth took my picture before the wedding. I didn’t know it, but Ron was standing right behind to me.” Ron and his eighties fashion sense looked as comical as ever in the shot, but I stifled my snicker, remembering he’d probably ended a young woman’s life with his bare hands. “I literally bumped into him after this was taken.”

“Can you send me that photo, Ms. Williams?” Detective
Clark
asked.

I offered him a sly grin. “I just did.”

Ten

W
e spent the next hour separated, each of us assigned a cop. While I repeated my story and Detective Clark filled out a statement form, Jason let Officer Rodriguez fingerprint him and search his jacket. By the time I’d read and signed my form, Jason had washed off his inky fingers, and we switched places.

Once my prints were completed, Detective Clark dismissed Officer Rodriguez and I cleaned up. When I returned the paperwork was gone, and the detective stood by the door reading over his notes. He’d just closed his notepad when the phone next to the couch rang.

“Yes?” Jason answered. “No, we haven’t.” He covered the receiver and looked at me. “What time is it?”

“Twelve thirty-eight,” Detective Clark answered before I could find a clock.

Jason frowned and tilted the phone back up. “Yes, I know when checkout is, but…we
can
vacate the room…we’re not
that
late!” he snapped. “I’d
love
to talk to the manager.”

“What’s wrong?” I mouthed.

With a huff he put the phone against his chest. “Checkout time was noon. They want to charge me for an extra night.”

“Maybe I should have a word with them,” Detective Clark offered, holding out his hand.

Jason passed him the receiver. “That’d be great, thanks.”

The call didn’t last long once the detective took over. After some terse words and a few not-so-veiled threats, he hung up. “The manager apologized for interrupting and agreed that checking out before two o’clock would be unreasonable.”

“Did I hear you say the media could’ve gotten wind he was throwing key witnesses out of his hotel?” I asked.

“You
are
a reporter,” Detective Clark said with a quick wink.

Jason guffawed. “Nice.”

“I should be going. When we ID the prints, I’ll call you, Ms. Williams.”

I caught his hand, holding it between mine rather than shaking it. “Melissa, please. Thanks for everything, Detective.”

“You’re very welcome. Tell your mom Tim Clark says hello.” Detective
Clark
—Tim—pointed at Jason. “Take care,” he said with more emphasis than I would’ve expected.

Jason nodded, his face grave, and Detective Clark left without another word.

I looked at Jason. “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” he said, but I wasn’t convinced. He avoided my gaze, busying himself by stacking up our breakfast dishes.

Rather than argue I pushed the curtains open, revealing the view I’d imagined last night. The nocturnal fog had burned away, leaving a perfectly clear outline of the island rising above its watery confines. The sparkling azure ocean reminded me of Jason’s brilliant eyes and the twinkle that accompanied his breathtaking smile. My mood turned a darker shade of blue as our final minutes ticked away.

I didn’t hear Jason come up behind me, and I jumped when he spoke.

“Hey, come outside with me for a minute,” he said and took my hand. The glass in front of me slid open, and he led me to a padded chaise on the balcony. He pulled me onto his lap, and we lay together, bathed in the bright sunshine.

“How are you?” he asked softly.

“I’m okay,” I lied.

Jason didn’t say anything, but his arms tightened around me.

Can he feel me coming apart?
No more lies.
“This wasn’t exactly how I’d planned to spend the morning with you,” I said. My breathing became erratic. “When do you…?” The rest of the question caught in my throat. In minutes he’d be gone.

Jason found one of my hands and began working his magic, rubbing my sweaty palm. “We need to talk about that. I’m not ready to let you go, and after this morning, I don’t think you should be alone—especially if you’re going to your mom’s house.”

His parental-sounding concern didn’t elicit my inner teenager this time. Instead of rebellion, I was consumed with guilt. Over and over he’d had to save me, like I was a little child unable to take care of myself. That wasn’t the only reason for the guilt, though. The truth was I
liked
being his damsel in distress. But I had to let him go, free from worry.

“I’m not going all the way north. I’ll stay in Santa Lucia until Mom gets back. There wasn’t anything in my purse with that address on it, so I’ll be safe. You heard the detective—now that they know who to look for, Ron’s days are numbered.” I tried to hide my sorrow by playing with one of his belt loops. “When’s your flight?”

“Not until Friday.”

What? No, I can’t have heard him right
. “Friday? I thought you had to get back today.” I fought back the dangerous hope that wound its way through me. If one day could lead to a week, what would a week lead to?
No, end it now. It’ll only hurt more later
.

“I was thinking of checking out the
Central
Coast
. Do you think you could recommend a good spot to stay?” He released my hand and traced my jaw instead, bringing to life the desire that had been forgotten in the stress of the morning.

He’s leaving—no matter what. He
has
to leave.
“But your flight! Beth said you were going home today.”

“Since Mitch isn’t around, and my summer classes don’t start for another week, the plan was to return to
Ann Arbor
early.
That
plan has definitely lost its appeal,” Jason said, twirling a lock of my hair around his finger.

No, I’m still dreaming.
Just as I moved to pinch myself, he kissed my neck, proving I
was
awake…in more ways than one.

Nervous Melissa tried one last time. “But you can’t change your reservation now—they’ll charge you for it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s already done.” A smile danced in his tone.

“That’s why it took you so long to wash up after the fingerprints.” The hope spread like wildfire, and a completely unreasonable image of Jason meeting my mother flickered through my mind.

I jiggled as he laughed behind me. “Not much gets past you, does it?” He returned to caressing my neck with his lips. “I almost changed it yesterday,” he murmured against my skin.

“Yesterday? Why?”

Jason laughed again at my confusion. “Why do you think? A certain lovely woman caught my eye at the wedding, and I thought maybe I’d see if she was available for dinner at a later date.”

He thought about changing his flight after only
seeing
me?
During the wedding, he’d been unable to keep his eyes off me—was that why? Apparently I wasn’t quite as invisible as I thought.

“But you looked shocked when you heard Todd call my name after the ceremony.”

“You
were
there!” he exclaimed. “I told you I wanted to meet you. I can’t believe you snuck out before I caught you.” He raised his head from my skin, whispering in my ear instead. “Your emails were very sexy, you know? Very…thought provoking.”

“Right.” My innuendo was anything but thoughtful. “Didn’t Mitch tell you what I looked like?”

Jason played with my ponytail as if it was something he did every day. “No. Mitch wasn’t particularly helpful. His take was that if I was seriously interested, I should move back to
California
.” He shifted so his arms encircled me again. “He left me to figure out who you were on my own. It wasn’t until the reception I found out such wit and intelligence resided in the irresistible woman I have in my arms.”

His voice mixed with the sunshine pouring down on me, and I sighed contentedly.

Jason’s hands stilled. “So you didn’t answer my question. May I join you for a few days?”

Friday!
I lay back, noting how my head fit perfectly on his shoulder as my fantasy took a new twist, showing me the immediate future this time. Jason in my car…checking out Poly…seeing my desk at the
Daily
. Then I remembered my vacant apartment, and the vision became comical.

“That would be great, but my apartment is just about empty. I don’t even have a TV.”

His fingers moved to my ear and circled it, following the ridges and valleys and sending chills through me in the midday heat. “That’s all right. I think we can find some other ways to entertain ourselves.”

I flopped over and pulled myself across his body in search of his lips. With a quiet moan I melted into him, our tongues engaging in an erotic game of cat and mouse
. Five more days!
My naughty side rejoiced, throwing even more fervor into the kiss.

I lifted my face from Jason’s as his hands wandered down my chest. “We really should go. We have a long drive ahead of us,” I said, catching his fingers over my heart. “Unless you
do
want to pay for another night…”

His lower lip popped out, tempting me anew, but I managed to resist kissing his pout away.

“I guess you’re right,” he sighed, wiggling his fingers against my sternum.

I slapped his shoulder playfully before pulling him up off the chaise.

* * *

It took longer to check out than to pack. After his previous faux pas, the manager fell over himself to take care of Jason’s tie-less tuxedo until Mr. McAlister could pick it up. Jason politely cut off the man’s groveling with an assurance that we had only good things to say about the hotel, should anyone ask. Refusing the bellboy’s offer of help, we made a run for the door.

Without even a grunt, Jason hoisted his huge suitcase into my car. That, combined with his backpack and my computer bag, completely filled the tiny trunk. Giddy with excitement, I buckled up, and we hit the road.

I caught myself checking out Jason for the twentieth time since putting the car in drive. Lounging in the passenger seat next to me, he seemed unaware of how his presence skewed my view of the world. With him next to me, everything seemed brighter, clearer. Everything seemed right. Yup, I was in deep, deep trouble.

Poor me
. I suppressed a giggle and peeked at Jason again. Twenty-one…

He adjusted the seat, sliding all the way back and reclining a bit to make more room for his long legs. After surveying the dash, he turned on the radio and was greeted with loud static.

“May I?” he asked.

“Sure, knock yourself out.”

He fiddled with the buttons, tuning through various stations, looking for…I didn’t know what. The man I’d been so intimate with was still largely a mystery. With four hours of driving ahead of us, I’d definitely remedy that situation.

“How’s this?” Jason asked. I gave him a thumbs up as Sammy Hagar belted out
I Can’t Drive 55
. “What kind of music do you usually listen to?” he asked, beating me to the punch.

I popped open a compartment in the console between us, displaying the few CDs I kept in the car. “Mostly rock, some pop, a little alternative…there’s more on my MP3 player. Radio stations in Santa Lucia are few and far between, so I have to make do.” He extracted a colorful jewel case and began inspecting the cover. I guess he approved, but I couldn’t tell for sure.

“We’re doing this completely backward, aren’t we?” I said.

He looked up, scowling. “Backward?”

“Yes. Don’t people usually sleep together
after
they know things about each other like, oh, what kind of music they enjoy…or what they’re allergic to…or whether or not they get carsick?” I pursed my lips.

Jason’s eyes sparkled, and he blurted, “
Carsick?!”
He put his hand over his mouth and puffed his cheeks dramatically. The fake puking sounds he made were overcome by raucous laughter when I snorted loudly trying to contain my own mirth. The uninhibited happiness in his laugh was as addicting as any narcotic, though I couldn’t imagine any drug giving me such complete pleasure. I could fly on his brand of intoxication for a very long time. Already I was plotting how to get my next fix.

Catching his breath, his voice took a more serious tone. “You’re right, though; we did kind of rush through the formalities. How about we rewind a bit and try a more traditional approach?”