Admit One (17 page)

Allie slid her a sideways look.

“
Oh come
on.
Don’t act like you haven’t noticed.”

Allie sighed. “Why do you think I came out here to stick my head in the refrigerated display case?”

“Good plan.” Rainey held the tray while Allie used tongs to arrange the scones. “You better bring a fire extinguisher along on your date tonight. When you spontaneously combust, at least Mason will be able to keep the flames from spreading.”

Allie slapped the last scone onto the plate in exasperation. “Tell me you were not eavesdropping on my private conversation this morning.”

“I was not eavesdropping on your private conversation this morning.
Branson
was eavesdropping on your private conversation this morning. I bribed him with an iced mocha to tell me what y’all said.”

Allie shook her head. This was the price, she knew, of asking her brother – the gossip queen – to drive her into work at seven o’clock in the morning.

“Maybe I should carry the extinguisher, in case Mason spontaneously combusts over
me
.”

“I would concede your point if it weren’t for the fact that he’s pulled his hair back in a little ponytail. Did you see that little ponytail, Allie? With the strands of dark gold hair straggling down so that all you notice is those cheekbones? I almost swallowed my tongue.”

Allie’s lips twitched. “I think maybe you’re the one in danger of combusting.”

“Don’t I know it. Here.” She took the tray with alacrity. “I’ll take that back to the kitchen.”

“How helpful of you.”

“I try.”

More amused than annoyed, Allie started double checking the stock of cups, bags, napkins and straws so that she wasn’t tempted to follow Rainey into the kitchen. She had a difficult enough time keeping her head when it came to Mason without Rainey fanning the...

Okay. Enough with the fire motif.

The swinging door opened again behind her, and Allie called over her shoulder. “Let me guess. He’s taken off his shirt, resulting in the loss of all feeling in your extremities.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

Allie dropped the box, sending straws skittering all over the floor. She whipped around to see Mason leaning indolently against the counter, mouth quirking.

And damn it, the ponytail
was
hot.

“Not nearly as dangerous as sneaking up on a woman in close proximity to boiling liquids.”

“Just in case there was any question, I’d prefer the tea you promised me in a cup as opposed to covering my person.”

“I’ll bear that in mind. Did you get the car started?” she asked as she bent over to scoop up straws.

“Well, yes.” He retrieved a straw that had landed near his booted feet. “However…”

When she heard the hesitation in his voice, Allie glanced up. His expression no longer held the slightest trace of amusement.

“Is there someplace we can talk?” he asked, his voice pitched low. “Privately.”

“Sure.” Allie’s brows drew together. “Is something wrong?”

“I’d rather wait to discuss it when we’re not in danger of being overheard.”

“At least you’ve figured out how this town works. Give me just a second.” She put the last of the wrapped straws back into the box and sat it on the shelf. “Rainey! Can you come out here a second?”

Rainey popped up like an eager jack-in-the-box, ears practically flapping. “You called me?”

“Can you unlock the front door and mind the counter for a bit? I have to talk to Mason.”

“Oh.” Her gaze darted between the two of them and she smirked, clearly coming to her own conclusion. “Sure thing, boss.”

Allie rolled her eyes as she led Mason to the office. She peeked back into the hall to double check that there were no errant siblings or overzealous employees lurking about, and then closed and locked the door. On second thought, she unlocked it. A bolted door would only give Rainey more cause for speculation. “That should keep Rainey occupied, and Josie is busy in the kitchen.”

“I know.” Mason looked slightly wary. “She scowled at me as I came through.”

“That just means she’s accepted you.”

“I hate to think what she might have done if she hadn’t.” He started to run his hand through his hair, recalled that he’d pulled it back, and reached to pluck out the band.

Allie made an inadvertent noise of distress.

He stopped, arm arrested in mid-motion, and Allie could have kicked herself.

“It’s…” Might as well just tell him. “It’s really sexy like that.”

The startled look in his eyes shifted to something more potent. His lids dropped, his chest expanded, and Allie wondered if he intended to just throw her down right there on the desk.

And why that sounded like a perfectly reasonable plan of action.

But then he closed his eyes. “Don’t distract me.” And they popped back open. “Not right now, at least.”

“Sorry.”

Allie went to sit behind the desk – it seemed prudent – and gestured Mason to the other chair. “What’s up?”

“First, a question. When was the last time you used your rear lighter?”

“My what?”

“In your car.”

“Oh.” Allie thought it over. “I have no idea. I use the front one to charge my phone sometimes, but… why, is there something wrong with it?”

“Well, I was able to successfully jump your battery. I let the car run for a bit, then turned it off and restarted it just to be sure. Only it wouldn’t start. So I went through the process again. I thought that maybe it was just a bad battery, but asked Tucker to come out and give his opinion before I sent you to the shop, and after he’d looked it over he checked the lighters.”

“I’m assuming there’s some sort of mechanical reason why he thought to do that, but I confess I have no idea what it is.”

“Nor do I, but then I’ve discovered that writers often possess odd bits of information about subjects that normal humans would look at askance.” Mason pulled something small, silver and crumpled from his pocket and placed it on the desk.

Allie eyed it in confusion. “Aluminum foil?”

“Apparently if you put it in the lighter it creates a junction of some sort – you’ll have to ask Tucker the specifics – which amounts to a continuous drain on the battery. Normally it takes a day or two for it to drain completely, but it seems that your battery was on its last leg anyway.”

“Of course it was.” Allie sighed, and studied the ball of foil. “Back in my day it was toilet papering houses. I blame the internet for giving pranksters more sophisticated ideas. Thanks.” She glanced up at Mason. “I’ll call and see if I can get a new battery delivered.”

Mason tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Don’t you find the timing a little… coincidental?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that someone sabotaged your car, likely while you were doing your tour last evening. And immediately afterward, you felt that you were being followed.”

A chill crawled over Allie’s skin, but she quickly dismissed it. “My car was unlocked – my fault – and therefore an easy target for mischief. It’s spring break for a lot of the schools, so it’s really not that surprising. Besides, how could whoever sabotaged it know that my battery would drain immediately? You said it normally took a day or two. Not to mention that they would have no way of knowing that I’d decide to walk to the theater to borrow Bran’s car, rather than calling a cab or walking next door and asking Sarah or Tucker for a jump.”

“All very logical,” Mason agreed after a moment, though his tone was a bit grudging. “Did the museum have your keys?”

Allie suddenly felt a little less confident at the reminder, though she was careful to keep it out of her voice. “The staff doesn’t get there until nine. I’ll give them a call then.” When she noticed that he continued to look skeptical she said: “Weren’t you the one who was reassuring me last night?”

“That was before Tucker pulled a hunk of aluminium foil from your lighter.”

“If the museum doesn’t have my keys, I’ll call Alan. If Alan doesn’t have them, I’ll see about having my locks changed. At this point, that’s really all I can do. Unless you’d prefer me to barricade myself in the office and spend the rest of the day hiding under my desk.”

His expression was so dry that it should have been garnished with an olive. “I believe that’s a bit dramatic even for my tastes.”

The phone rang then, and Mason glanced at it with the faintest trace of irritation. “I believe that’s my cue. Until tonight, then.”

There was such heat in the look he aimed at her that he practically left a trail of vapor on his way to the door. The phone rang twice more before Allie gathered her wits enough to pick it up.

“The Dust Jacket, Allison speaking.”

“Good morning, Allie.”

It took her a moment to place the voice, and when she did, her brows shot up. “Alan. Good morning.”

“I was just calling to make sure that you got home safely last night.”

“I did, yes. Thank you.”

“Any news on your car?”

“Ah, apparently it needs a new battery.” Because the reason it needed a new battery was not an avenue she wanted the conversation to take, Allie changed direction. “Um, I was actually about to call you.”

“You were?”

Was that a hint of… pleasure in his voice? Allie shook her head. She had too many other things going on to worry about Alan’s intonation. “You didn’t happen to find my keys last night, did you?”

“No, I didn’t.” The wheels were practically audible as they turned in his head. “When did you have them last?”

“Just before I… bumped into you.”

He politely didn’t comment on her euphemism. “I’ll cruise over to that intersection and have a look.”

“Oh. No. That’s not –”

“It’s no problem,” Alan talked right over her, habitual authority clear in his voice. She swallowed her sigh, prepared to explain that she herself had already looked.

“Thank you,” she said. “But I–”

A sharp rap on the door interrupted the conversation. When Will poked his head, still faintly damp from the shower, into the room, Allie’s hand tightened on the phone. “Ah, I’m sorry.” She carefully didn’t say his name. “But someone just knocked on my office door.”

“Gotcha,” Alan said easily. “I’ll have a look around and be in touch.”

Allie sucked a breath in through her nose as she hung up, and released it along with her frustration. Was it only last week that she’d been complaining to herself about the lack of men in her life? Now they were swarming like flies.

Of course this particular fly was of the permanent in-the-ointment variety.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Will said. “I was hoping to catch you before you left, but you took off while I was in the shower.”

Which had been the general plan. Allie was afraid that someone somewhere along the line would have spotted her in Alan’s truck and mentioned it to Will, and Allie didn’t particularly feel like answering the inevitable questions.

“Oh?” She fixed a pleasant smile on her face. “Did you need something?”

Will narrowed his eyes and Allie realized that she’d only managed to make him suspicious.

“What?” she said, a trace of annoyance leaking through. “Do I have icing on my face or something?”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a way that suggested he wasn’t entirely taken in, but was prepared to let it slide. “How would I be able to tell if you did? Your skin looks like my bed sheets.”

“Like I haven’t heard all of the Caspar comparisons before.”

“I guess I need some new material.”

Satisfied that the familiar back-and-forth had sufficiently distracted him for the moment, Allie leaned back in her chair. “But I’m guessing you didn’t drive over here just to harass me.”

“No.” Long and lanky, Will ambled over and took a seat. Or dropped into it, more aptly. He yawned, and Allie saw how tired he still looked.

“Want some coffee?”

“I’ll get some in a minute.”

Allie realized that it must be important if he’d come to talk to her pre-caffeine. She reached across the desk for his hand. “Will. What is it? Is it Dad?”

“No.” A shadow moved behind his eyes. “Although I did check out those facilities we talked about. We’ll need to have another family powwow. Soon.”

Allie nodded, and Will squeezed her hand before sitting back and crossing an ankle over his knee. “I wanted to talk to you about another relative of ours. Cousin Eugene.”

“Oh.” In all of the confusion over the past few days, she’d pretty much forgotten about their distant relation. “Did you find out who disturbed his grave?”

Will’s lips tightened. “I’m working on it. What I wanted to know is what sort of information you dug up – no pun intended. Harlan said that you were messing around in the attic the other day, looking for something.”

“You know, considering the house we share is an eight thousand square feet antebellum plantation with plaster walls two feet thick, you’d think we’d enjoy a little more privacy.”