2 #2
“Don’t you find it the least bit odd that she’s depositing several thousand dollars more than she’s declaring, and yet she operates that place on a nickel and a prayer?” Fisher asked. “She does all the cooking, all the cleaning, she even waitresses. If she’s being paid off, why isn’t she using the money to pump up her business?”
“Maybe she’s hoarding it for an early retirement,” Brian suggested.
“No, there’s something not right here,” Fisher said. “I want one more week to figure out what’s going on. I want to trace every single deposit and see where they are coming from.”
“A week?” Brian ripped off his glasses and shoved a hand through his hair, making it stand up in exasperated tufts. “She could be on Grand Cayman sucking down a daiquiri and laughing at us in a week. Are you willing to risk that?”
“Yes, I am,” he said.
Brian studied him, looking as frustrated as a cat stalking a caged canary. “All right, we’ll play it your way. But if you blow it, I’m going to let Van Buren rip you a new...”
“I get the idea,” Fisher interrupted his partner, not wanting to think about what Van Buren would do to him if he was wrong. But he had a hunch. There was something more to this than Annie and her business. He had to figure out what and soon.
When Annie answered his knock, she was wearing a bright yellow sundress with matching sandals. She looked as capable of deceit as a daisy and Fisher wondered, not for the first time, if he was being a Class-A idiot. She was either as innocent as she looked or she was the most deceptive felon he’d ever encountered.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked, feeling surly.
“Sure, but don’t you want to change?” she asked, gesturing to his suit. “We’re meeting at the church to rehearse, but dinner is just a barbecue at the groom’s parents’ house.”
“Jeans okay?” he asked.
“Just fine,” she agreed.
“I’ll be back in two minutes,” he said and turned to enter his own apartment.
“I’ll time you,” she called after him.
Despite himself, Fisher felt a smile part his lips. The woman had sass.
Rushing into his apartment, he paused to scratch Harpy’s pinfeathers and tell her what a good girl she was. When Harpy’s eyes rolled back in ecstasy, he gave her a quick peck on her head and hurried to his closet. He flung his tie over the doorknob, kicked off his shoes and shrugged out of his suit. He pulled on a faded pair of Levi’s jeans and his favorite Henley and rushed out the door not wanting to make them late.
She was waiting outside on the deck, leaning against the rail and watching a hummingbird hover over a pot of purple petunias in the yard below.
“How did I do?” he asked.
She glanced at her watch. “Ten seconds to spare,” she said. Her gaze moved over him and she frowned. “Then again...”
“What? Am I too casual?”
“No, but you might want shoes.”
Fisher glanced down at his feet. A pair of black socks stared back up at him. He wiggled his toes to be certain they were his. Yep, they were. Shoes? How could he have forgotten his shoes? When he glanced up, she was laughing. She was trying not to but failing miserably. Her muffled snorts gave her away.
“Ten seconds,” he promised with a grin and raced back into the house.
He’d never forgotten his shoes before. It had to be her. He could see her wide lips parted with laughter, her voluminous red hair tied back at the nape of her neck. It had to be her. She affected him in ways he didn’t understand. She distracted him, made him smile, made him want to loosen her hair and bury his face in it.
Grabbing his shoes from the closet floor, Fisher knotted the laces and raced back outside. Brian’s exasperated face appeared in his mind’s eye. The little cappuccino pusher has gotten to you, hasn’t she? No! She wasn’t getting to him. He couldn’t let her affect his judgment. Not if he wanted to keep his career alive.
He was going tonight strictly to observe the people she interacted with. To see who she associated with and get a list of names to check out. She was a suspect. The chief suspect. And he’d best not forget it.
They arrived at the church just in time. The minister was talking the bride and groom through the ceremony and Annie joined the other bridesmaids to receive her instructions for tomorrow’s ceremony.
Fisher took a seat at the back of the church and watched as the wedding party was put through their paces. The girls practiced walking down the aisle while the men stood beside the groom. Fisher wondered if their job was to keep the groom from bolting if he had second thoughts or to help him escape. Having never been in a wedding, he had no idea.
He did know that he didn’t like the groomsman Annie was paired with. He was only a few inches taller than Annie, he had white blonde hair, an even tan and a silly cleft in his chin. He looked like Dudley Do-Right. He held her too close and too tight, and he kept whispering in her ear as they practiced walking down the aisle in the wake of the bride and groom. Judging by the wrinkle in Annie’s nose, the guy either smelled bad or she was less than thrilled with his attention. Fisher was betting on the latter.
As if she felt his gaze upon her, she glanced up and her deep blue gaze met his. Fisher winked at her and she tripped, stumbling over her feet and causing her escort to loosen his grip upon her. Fisher grinned. So she wasn’t immune to him, either. Good.
Her partner paused in mid-step and glanced at Fisher as if noticing him for the first time. His light blue gaze was bewildered and he glanced at Annie in confusion. She picked up her pace, practically pulling the poor sap behind her as she hurried down the aisle.
Not wanting to laugh in a house of worship, Fisher tucked his mirth into his cheek and waited for Annie to join him.
“Who’s the chatterbox?” he asked when she sat beside him in the pew.
“Stewart Anderson,” she answered.
“The ex?” he guessed.
“Yes,” she confirmed.
“So, why did you break up with him?” he asked. “Did he talk you to death?”
“He does love the sound of his own voice, but no, that wasn’t it,” she said.
“Well?”
“We just wanted different things,” she said.
Fisher admired her diplomacy, but he was more than a little curious as to the real reason for their breakup. “Does he know I’m your date?”
“He does now.” Annie nodded and forced a smile at someone over Fisher’s shoulder.
He glanced around to see Dudley Do-Right making his way toward them with a blond bombshell on his arm.
“Anne,” he said, almost shouting, as if he feared they’d get away from him. “I’d like you to meet Tiffany.”
“Tiffany, this is Anne and her...guest,” Stewart said, glaring at Fisher.
“Date,” Fisher corrected him as he rose from his seat. “My name is Fisher. Nice to meet you.”
“Fisher?” Tiffany repeated, her voice was high with a trace of a lisp. “I dated a man named Fisher once, but he was nothing like you. You’re gorgeous.” Her vacant brown eyes blinked at him, and she giggled as she tossed her hair. Fisher suspected it was a move she’d spent hours perfecting in front of a mirror. He felt Annie stand beside him.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tiffany,” Annie said. Fisher glanced at her. She looked as if she meant it. “If you two will excuse me, I want to get to the house and help with the barbecue.”
As she took his arm and led him away, Fisher leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Nice getaway. Very smooth.”
“Was it?” she asked. “I didn’t want to look like I was running, but puleeze. ”
“You don’t like the new girlfriend?”
“Oh, no. She’s not the sharpest pencil in the box, but she’s fine,” Annie said. “It’s him. Ugh!”
“Hmm,” Fisher hummed in total agreement.
They arrived at the groom’s parents’ house just behind the bride and groom. At the end of a cul-de-sac, the house boasted a large yard and an unrestricted view of Camelback Mountain. The house was decorated with luminaries and ristras, and a huge barbecue pit had been dug in the backyard.
Fisher stood back from the group, observing the people around him. The bride and groom, Eve and Tony, rarely left one another’s side. When they gazed at each other, they beamed a wattage matched only by the sun.
Fisher wondered if he would ever know that kind of joy. He’d always planned to get married, but he hadn’t found Ms. Right...yet.
“Something wrong with your spare ribs?” Annie asked, appearing beside him.
“No, why?”
“You’re frowning,” she said.
“Am I?” He drew in a breath and let it out. “I didn’t realize.”
“What were you thinking about?” she asked.
“Marriage,” he answered.
“Ah.” She nodded. “It makes me frown, too. Actually, just the thought of it gives me hives.”
“Why? Afraid you’ll be an old maid?” he asked.
She laughed. “Actually, no. I’m more afraid I’ll end up as someone’s missus. No thank you!”
“You don’t want to get married?” he asked in surprise.
“No, I don’t believe in it.”
“Oh no.” He shook his head in disbelief.
“What?”
“You sound just like my mother,” he said.
“She doesn’t believe in marriage?” she asked in astonishment.
“No, she and my father don’t believe in the institution of marriage,” he said.
“Wow, that’s remarkable.”
“No, it’s ridiculous,” he corrected her. “They’ve been together for thirty-five years. It’s just asinine.”
“But they’re happy?”
“Very.”
“Maybe they just know what works for them,” she offered.
“No, just they’re just ridiculous,” he said, unable to mask the affection in his voice.
“Oh, please,” she said. “I’ll tell you about ridiculous. My parents have seven marriages between them. Mom’s plunged four times. Dad’s jumped three.”
“You win.” Fisher raised his hands. “That’s...I don’t even know what. Is that why you don’t believe in marriage?”
“I’m sure it’s a part of it,” she said, “But, honestly, I’ve never...”
“Anne, here you are,” Stewart called as he came striding across the lawn toward them. “Eve is looking for you.”
“Oh, okay.” She turned to Fisher. “Excuse me, duty calls.”
“Sure.” He watched her yellow skirt swirl around her long legs and her hair swing across her back as she dashed across the lawn. His fingers tightened around his beer.
“Don’t lose your heart to that one.”
“What?” He turned to find Stewart standing beside him.
“Don’t lose your heart to her. She belongs to someone else.”
“You?” Fisher asked.
Stewart nodded. “She doesn’t know it yet, but we belong together.”
“Then you brought Tiffany because...?”
“To make Anne realize what she was going to lose,” Stewart explained. “I knew that once she saw me with another woman, she’d come around.”
“She did,” he said.
“Really? What did she say?” Stewart asked, his pale blue eyes glittering with triumph.
“She said she felt sorry for Tiffany.” Fisher swallowed the last of his beer and left Stewart gaping like an open-mouthed bass. He crossed the yard, following the bright yellow dress. She was flitting from group to group, fetching and carrying like a perfect hostess. For reasons Fisher couldn’t understand, he wanted to get her away from here. He found her refilling a coffee cup for an older woman.
“Are you sure that’s decaf, honey?” the old woman asked.
“Yes, Mrs. Hampton,” Annie said.
“Well, that’s good otherwise I’ll be up all night. It’s bad enough I’m getting up three and four times a night to trek to the facility.” The old woman sighed. “Don’t ever get old, dear.”
“I’ll try not to,” Annie promised. Turning, she caught sight of Fisher and smiled.
Fisher put his hand around her elbow and pulled her away from the crowd. Her hair was coming undone and a flush of exertion filled her cheeks. As the evening breeze sent a long curl drifting across her cheek, Fisher couldn’t help but push it away with a fingertip. He heard Annie’s quick hitch of breath and his eyes met hers.
There it was, that indefinable spark that ignited between them every time their eyes met. Fisher felt his insides tighten, clenching like a fist. His gaze lowered to her lips. They were slightly parted as if she’d been caught by surprise.
Before he could think it over, debate the pros and cons, or remember that she was a suspect, Fisher felt his head lower to hers. He could feel her breath against his lips; it was erratic and warm and lured him like a promised caress.
“Annie!” An ear-splitting cry jerked Fisher back as if he were on a leash.
Annie blinked at him, but then turned to find the person who had yelled for her.
Eve was making her way toward them. “I’m going home now. A bride needs her beauty rest.”
“Not you, Eve. You’re going to be gorgeous,” Annie assured her friend. “Is there anything I can do?”
“No, thanks,” the bride said. “I want you to get some rest, too. Now remember, we’re meeting at the hairdresser’s at two.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I drop off the cake at the reception hall,” Annie promised, giving her friend a quick hug and kiss good-night.
Fisher and Annie followed the bride and her parents to their car. As Eve climbed into the car behind her parents, Tony gave her a passionate kiss causing the assembled guests to whoop and cheer.
“You’d better be there tomorrow,” he chided his bride with a grin.
“Don’t you worry. A blizzard in Phoenix wouldn’t stop me,” she promised.
“Isn’t that sweet?” Annie asked Fisher as he helped her into his Jeep.
“You’re a sucker for love, aren’t you?” he asked, climbing into the driver’s seat.
“I’m a sap for sure,” she agreed. “I cry at the drop of a hankie.”
“Are you having second thoughts about your breakup with Stew? He sounds as if he’d marry you in a heartbeat.”
“I’m sure he would,” she agreed while buckling her seat belt. “But only because he thinks he can turn The Coffee Break into a national chain. Even if I were in love with him, which I’m not, I’d never marry him.”
“Yes, you would,” Fisher said, starting the engine.
“No, I wouldn’t,” she argued.
“You think that now, but when you fall in love it’ll be different,” he said.
“No,” she repeated more firmly. “I like the arrangement your parents have. I mean look at them. They’ve been together for thirty-five years. I bet if they’d gotten married they would’ve divorced a long time ago.”
“No, they wouldn’t,” he said, as he paused at a red light. “They’re both eccentric. No one else could put up with them.”
“What makes them eccentric? Just because they don’t want to get married...”
“They’re very granola,” he interrupted with a sigh. “They’ve never owned a home. I grew up in a converted school bus, driving all over the country, while my parents cataloged rare and new species of birds for the Audubon Society. They’re ornithologists.”
“Really? That’s amazing,” she said. “You must have felt like a gypsy all your life.”
“Pretty close,” he agreed. “I never knew when I woke up in the morning, where we’d be. Sometimes it was exciting, but most of the time it was awful. It was no way to raise three kids.”
“You have siblings?”
“Two sisters, Piper and Wren.”
“Unusual names,” she said.
“My father named us after whatever bird they happened to be studying at the time.”
“Fisher? I don’t know any bird by that name,” she said.
“It’s shortened,” he said, cursing himself for having gotten into this conversation. He hated talking about his family. They were so unexplainable. He hated to see people’s reactions to his unconventional upbringing. But Annie was so easy to talk to, it had just slipped out.
“Shortened for what?” she asked.
Fisher turned onto the exit for their road. He stopped at the end of the exit ramp and turned to face her. “It’s short for Kingfisher,” he said and held his breath, waiting for the usual laughter that accompanied this disclosure.
She smiled at him. “I like it,” she said. “It suits you.”
Taken aback, he gaped at her. The light turned green and they just sat there.
“You don’t like your name?” she guessed.
A honk behind them prompted Fisher to start driving again as he tried to think of how to explain.
“It’s not that I dislike it, it’s just that I’ve spent my entire life explaining it. It’s embarrassing.”
“Well, it could be worse,” she said. “Your parents could have been studying woodpeckers. Then what would your nickname be? Woody or Pecker? Now that name would have been embarrassing.”
Fisher pulled up in front of The Coffee Break just as Annie finished her speech. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Had she just...? He switched off the engine and turned to look at her. She winked at him and he felt himself grin. Annie understood. Without his having to explain it, she understood what it had been like. The years of being constantly uprooted, always an outsider looking in. And in true Annie fashion, she refused to let him take himself too seriously. In a world where most people saw the glass as half empty or half full, Fisher marveled that Annie’s glass was always full.
With a laugh, he cupped her chin and pulled her face close. “Woody or Pecker? You’re a riot, Annie-girl.”
Her gaze met his for just the briefest moment, before she turned away. It was as if she were afraid he would see too much in her glance, as if she were trying to avoid revealing herself, her feelings, to him. Fisher felt the sharp point of curiosity poke him.
He wanted to know what she thought and how she felt. His thumb was pressing against the soft flesh of her chin, and he saw her lips quiver just a half inch above his finger. If he slid his thumb up, he could stroke that full lower lip.
Leaning back, he released her. She was a suspect! She was adorable and charming, but she was still a suspect. He had no right to be thinking of her lips and how they would feel beneath his.
“Come on,” he said, clearing the gravel out of his throat. “I’ll walk you up.”
She leaped from the car and Fisher found cold comfort in the fact that she was just as edgy as he was.