Chapter 14
The day before the gala, Zane finished his early morning run and jogged sweaty and panting into the house. Casey had spent the night before with Poppy Dean—and Zane’s evening make-out session on the starlit deck with Jillian had seriously strained his control. His balls were bluer than those Smurf cartoons Casey liked to watch.
Jillian was on her way to pick up Casey so Dean could head to the Center and finish the electrical and plumbing, so Zane didn’t hesitate to toe off his runners in the kitchen and make a beeline for the laundry room. His clothing situation was bordering on critical. He had to wash his running duds daily, but shopping didn’t max his fun meter either. Since he was supposed to pick up his rented tux for the gala sometime today, he supposed he could endure a quick detour to Super Value-World and get it over with.
He took off his socks, stripped off his tank shirt and pants. Dropping everything into the machine, he added detergent and switched it on. Then figuring what the hell , he started to tug down his black boxer briefs to toss them in too. Skivvies halfway down his ass, a strangled sound from the laundry room doorway had him jerking them back up and pivoting around to see Jillian standing there.
Her gaze deepened from surprised to sultry, then cruised slowly down his sweat-sheened body from forehead to bare feet. Then just as slowly cruised back up … caressing every inch. In a heartbeat, his dick surged from zero to ninety, and those bewitching eyes went wide, the irises darkening to purple twilight. “ Hello. ”
His tongue also seemed to have swelled three sizes in his mouth, but he managed to croak, “I thought you’d gone to get the kid.”
“I was supposed to.” Her delighted smile spiked his blood pressure into stroke range. “But as luck would have it, Pop called just as I was getting ready to go and said he wanted to take him out to breakfast first. He’ll drop him off when they’re done.”
“Oh.” Brilliant commentary, Wolfe. “I’m … headed for the shower.”
She moved closer, he caught her erotic scent, and every cell in his body lit up. Her naughty grin flooded his internal pilot light with accelerant and his insides erupted in flames. She reached out and lightly scraped tantalizing fingernails over his chest. “We could shower together. Like in Tahoe.”
As the memories scorched him, he damn near whimpered.
Yeah. Oh yeah, baby.
No, no, no.
Bad idea.
“Your father,” he gritted. “And the kid. Due here shortly.”
“We can be quick.” The pink tip of her tongue slid across her plump bottom lip and her fingertips glided down his stomach toward the waistband of his briefs—and sonofabitch he damned near came in his skivvies then and there.
He caught her wrist, yanked her full against him. He took her mouth in a kiss that left them both gasping for oxygen. Then he let go and eased back. “ If we do it again, sweetheart, I promise you, nothing about it is going to be quick.”
He stepped around her and barreled upstairs to the shower while he still could.
After his chilly shower, Zane re-entered the kitchen fully dressed and only slightly less aroused.
Jillian handed him a mug of hot coffee. She grinned at him over the rim of her own. “You know, Mr. Big Bad, if you keep getting me all worked up and then leaving me in the lurch, I’m going to have to resort to B.O.B.”
His brows lowered in a black scowl as he gulped the fortifying brew. “Who the hell is Bob?”
“Battery Operated Boyfriend.”
He choked, spewed coffee. Holy shit.
Unsure whether he was amused or insulted, he coughed, sucked in air. Leaving a woman unsatisfied was not how he rolled.
Checkmate, Wolfe.
Because any response to her statement in either direction would land him in the hot zone.
A brisk knock on the front door pulled his balls out of the firing line . “There’s your dad.”
But it wasn’t Dean at the door. Mia entered wearing a troubled expression and carrying a big box exquisitely wrapped in silver and white wedding bells paper and topped with a lavish sparkling silver bow. “Hi. I need to talk to you guys.”
“Mia, you shouldn’t have,” Jillian said, indicating the gift.
“I didn’t.” Mia handed the box to Jillian. “It was on your front doorstep.”
Jillian read the attached tag. “‘Jillian, wishing you many more special days like this one. All your work at the Center never goes unnoticed.’ Awww. The kids must’ve chipped in for a group gift.”
She carried it to the sofa. Tugged apart the bow, eagerly opened the wrapping, lifted the lid off the box. A ragged gasp tore out of her, her face bleaching deathly pale.
“Jillian?” Zane strode across the room. “What—”
“Oh God!” she cried, shoving the box away. “Oh my God! ”
The box fell off the sofa, and a mangled white furry body soaked in grisly red tumbled out onto the carpet.
Mia made a gagging sound.
Jillian reeled. “A-Aragorn. Th-they k-killed my—”
Zane caught her as she burst into tears and her knees gave out. He held her close, but he was staring at the grim mess. “No. No, wait a sec .”
He sat a sobbing Jillian on the sofa, bent to examine the body. “It’s not him. It’s not even a real cat.” He touched the still-sticky red, rubbed it between his fingertips. Sniffed. “It’s a stuffed toy cat ripped apart … with paint on it.”
He knelt in front of Jillian, who had her arms wrapped tight around her middle and was rocking herself. “Jillian, it’s fake.” He embraced her. “It’s not a real cat. Jillian, it’s not Aragorn. ”
She dragged in a shuddering breath. Then another. “A-are y-you-sure?”
“Positive.” He rubbed her back. “Easy, now, sweetheart. It’s okay. Everything is okay.”
“W-where is he, then? A-Aragorn. H-have you seen him this m-morning?”
“Not yet, but he’s not my biggest fan. I’ll go check—”
“No,” Mia said. “I’ll go.”
Zane glanced up at his friend. Her face was sickly green and she was shaking, but her spine was stiff and anger tightened her fine features. He half rose. “You need to sit down yourself. Here—”
“Stay with Jillian, Zane.” Mia’s chin jutted at the familiar stubborn angle. “I’ll find the cat. He likes me better anyway.” She stalked away, calling Aragorn’s name.
“C-Casey,” Jillian stuttered. “If he comes home and sees this … I need to clean it up.”
“I’ll clean it up,” Zane replied in a low voice, again rubbing her back. “I need to preserve the evidence correctly anyhow. You just relax … and breathe.”
He held her for another few minutes until she steadied. He collected and bagged the evidence. After stashing it in the garage, he spot-cleaned the rug with carpet cleaner Jillian had under the sink.
She watched him, lips trembling. “Is the paint coming out?”
“Yeah, surprisingly well. This is strong stuff.”
“I use it when Casey spills, or A-Aragorn … sometimes he throws-up h-hairballs …” Her voice faltered.
“Speaking of the hairball …” Mia entered carrying the big white cat, who appeared hale and hearty as he shot Zane a dirty look. Mia set Aragorn in Jillian’s lap. “I found him snoozing on Casey’s bed.”
“Oh!” Jillian gathered the cat to her, buried her face in his neck and started to cry again. “He’s fine! You’re just fine, my sweet boy.”
“He is,” Mia assured her. “Listen, how about if I make us some soothing herbal tea?”
Jillian nodded, still cuddling the cat. “Sounds good.”
Mia caught Zane’s eye, nodded at the kitchen.
He followed her in. “What’s up?”
“I came over this morning to deliver some news, but I don’t want to dump it on Jillian now.” She frowned. “Congressman Reynolds sent Richard and Brooke’s lawyer a glowing and strongly-worded personal letter of recommendation stating that they should be given full custody.”
“What the fuck? ”
“My reaction exactly. Apparently Dick and Wade are pretty tight. Serve on the same fundraising committees, pillars of the community, blah, blah.”
He ground his teeth. “Wonder if he discovered we’re poking around in his playtime with Deb and this is his way of retaliating?”
“Maybe. Zane, the Congressman’s influence could totally tip this case in favor of the Stuarts. And I wouldn’t put it past Richard or Reynolds to arrange to have the hearing in front of a judge who’s in their pockets.”
“I figured Reynolds wasn’t the one harassing Jillian, but now I’m not so sure.” He glanced into the living room where Jillian had calmed and was cuddling the cat. “Come with me.”
Upstairs in his bedroom, he booted up his laptop. Mia leaned over his shoulder as he accessed the security program for the system he and Dallas had installed in Jillian’s house.
He loaded the feed from the front security camera. “Let’s see who left us a ‘present’ this morning.”
Mia leaned forward as they watched the person set the package on the doorstep and walk away. “Isn’t that one of the boys from the play?”
He tensed. “Yeah.”
“Farley, right?”
He snarled at the screen. “ Nailed, you pervy little bastard.” He turned to Mia. “Can you stay with Jillian for a while? I don’t want to leave her alone.”
“For a short while. I know I promised to watch Casey today while she was prepping for the gala tomorrow night, but I need to get back to Portland and meet with Richard and Brooke’s lawyer and try to figure out his angle. And have Dallas help me find out everything we can about Reynolds’ involvement in the custody case.”
He shoved to his feet. “I won’t be long.”
* * *
Zane arrived back at Jillian’s house and parked in the driveway in the perfect mood to rip somebody a new one.
He’d been careful to cross all his t’s, dot every i. He’d shown Officer Ray the security camera feed, then had the cop read Farley his rights and haul him in for official questioning. The locals had extended professional courtesy to Zane and let him sit in on the interrogation.
The furious, scared kid had insisted he found the package on the Center’s doorstop and hadn’t wanted it to be ruined or stolen, so he’d personally delivered it to the house.
A check of the Hope Center’s security camera feed revealed a fifteen minute recording gap that showed only snow, then the package sitting there for over an hour before Farley arrived and took it, just as he claimed.
That “glitch in the Matrix” was no coincidence, and it stunk to high heaven. And had Zane believing Farley. The kid didn’t have the professional chops to circumvent the most top-of-the line security system. Not likely that gangbangers did either.
Which brought Zane circling back to either Dr. Dick and/or his buddy the Congressman.
He sat in the car dialing down his anger and frustration.
He hunted bad guys for a living … and hunting required patience. Going off half-cocked never helped and would only result in a sloppy case that might not hold.
And he’d make damned certain sure this one would stick like friggin’ Gorilla Glue.
He walked into the house carrying his rented tux and shoes in garment bags over one shoulder. He heard laughter from the back deck where he found Jillian and Mia talking a mile a minute about the gala and scribbling notes at the outdoor table while Dallas and Casey engaged in a raucous squirt-gun battle on the lawn.
“Hi, Zane!” Casey yelled. “Mr. Dallas is an awesome shot.”
“Zane’s better,” Dallas drawled wryly. “I can vouch for that.”
Mia glanced up in silent inquiry at Zane. He shook his head, and her lips tightened.
Jillian rose, still slightly pale, but otherwise appearing recovered from the morning’s cruelty. “Zane! Everything okay?”
He brandished the tux—he’d used it as his cover story to leave the house and stopped on the way home to pick it up. “Yep. Took the shop a while to find the monkey suit I’d reserved for tomorrow night.” Which was the truth. “It’s pandemonium in there because of the gala.”
“I wondered what took so long.” She tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. “About the gala … I have a problem I’m hoping you can help me with.” She inhaled gustily. “Remember Mia volunteered to babysit Casey for the day while Lynn and I wrapped up all the last-minute details? But she’s had an urgent case come up at the office and she and Dallas have to go home to Portland.”
Zane cringed inwardly, knowing what was coming.
“So I was wondering if you … if you’d be willing to keep an eye on him.”
Like he had a choice? After the ugly shock Jillian had experienced, he wasn’t about to give her any grief. Which was why he’d decided not to mention the incident with Farley, or Reynolds’ potential damage to the custody case just yet. No doubt Mia would fill Dallas in on the way home. He draped the garment bags over a chair. “Yeah. I could do that.”
Jillian’s happy grin burrowed through Zane’s chest and twined around his heart. “Great! I really have to get moving and I know Mia and Dallas do, too.” She and Mia exchanged hugs. “I wish you could stay for the gala, but thanks for hanging out with me until Zane got back.”
“I wish we could too, it’s going to be a blast,” Mia replied. “These past couple of weeks have been fantastic. We’ll be in touch.”
Mia gave Zane a hug, and Zane and Dallas did the man-hug-disguised-as-a-cool-handshake thing. His friends left.
Zane ran his tux and shoes upstairs, and loped back down while Jillian went to her room to change out of her shorts and tank top.
Wearing her poppy sundress, yellow sandals, and her pearls in a single long strand, she hurriedly gathered her notes, her purse and a bottle of water. She kissed Casey, then Zane as she zoomed past them toward the front door—probably trying to skip out before Zane could change his mind. “I’ll take Loucinda’s ‘Vette and leave Pink Cooper in case you need a car. Casey, be a good boy for Zane. Zane, if you run into anything you can’t handle, call my cell.” The door closed behind her.
Nerves stretched taut in the sudden silence, Zane turned around and stared at the kid studying him with rapt expectation.
Once again, he reminded himself, how bad can it get? He’s only one little boy.