Alpha Me Not (29 page)

Pissed couldn’t begin to describe Joe’s mood while they dressed for the evening.

Susie muttered something about most of her stuff being in the pink room and hightailed it down the hall. The front doorbell rang when she shut the bedroom door, but her normal insatiable curiosity didn’t rear its ugly head.

She had intended to move her clothes into the master bedroom today but abandoned
that
notion. After showering, dressing, and primping, she decided to give herself a manicure and pedicure and searched in the bathroom cabinet drawer for the nail polish she’d purchased on Sunday.

The box of birth control pills yawned at her like a Florida sinkhole. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, she’d forgotten to take the pill since Tuesday. She collapsed onto the tub rim. Swallowed hard. What to do now? Take all four pills at once? What if, oh gawd, what if she was pregnant already? Could she be?

For twenty-five minutes she paced the room. She loved Joe. They were mated. Wolves mated for life. The image of him with Wania sitting on his hip got stuck in her brain. He’d be an amazing father. And it was obvious he loved kids. The vanilla thumb thing had her wearing a silly smile.

When she’d called Barb about the dress code for dinner earlier, they’d chatted for some time. Barb had told Susie the joy Petey had brought into her and Kieran’s lives far outweighed the pain of losing him. She said the memories of her son would warm her heart forever. Barb had also told her how difficult it had been to conceive.

Susie blinked away a tear. She took the four pills all at once and decided to let fate handle the rest of the situation. No sense worrying about milk that hadn’t been spilt or, in this case, eggs that may not have been fertilized.

At six thirty, Joe knocked on the door.

Wow! The man looked amazing in khaki pants, a navy jacket, a jaunty scarlet tie, and tamed and gelled hair.

Susie brushed her new wool and cotton black trousers, checked the front of her satin aqua spaghetti-strapped top to ensure it was even, and grabbed the black shawl and matching bag she’d bought for the funeral.

They left the pink room without more than an exchange of eyebrow raises. He uttered not a word down the hallway. His usual loose grace of movement had vanished, and he walked with a stiff gait.

In the laundry room he ground to an abrupt halt and jammed her against the machine. “Damn it, woman. I am not going out with you when your hackles are bristling.”

He picked her up, sat her on the washer, and took her lips in a bruising, intense kiss. His tongue scorched her mouth.

She met him stroke for stroke. Held on to his lapels and tasted his frustration and desire, twirling her tongue around his, and retreated when he growled. His pupils had shrunk to pinpoints, and the amber halo around the dark slivers made her shiver.

“My hackles aren’t up anymore.”

He stared at her. “Things are going to come to a head soon. I can’t have you disobeying a single order from now on.”

“I won’t. Promise. I’ll think before I act. I know you need your head clear and not to have to worry about me.” He was going to track a serial killer. One who had escaped detection for years. Her stomach hollowed. “What’re you going to do about the Arnolds?”

“We’ll handle the situation. And knowing you’ll stick to the rules will make it easier.” He chucked her chin. “Let’s roll.”

A quick glance at his sober profile once they were on the road had her breath hitching. He appeared…resolute. The blasted men had a plan—one they had no intention of sharing.

She frowned. Joe’d never again leave her unprotected. That was an unalterable fact. So whatever their scheme, it wouldn’t go down tonight.

“Are they worth a penny or more?” He shot her a side glance. “Your thoughts? You look fantastic by the way. For the record I’d prefer you
not
go out braless in company.”

Huh? She whipped to face him. “Joe Huroq—”

“Susie White. Would you like me to walk around with my dick hanging out?”

“That’s entirely different.”

“Not to me. In a ten-second ogle, any man worth a crap would know the shape of your breasts. Like me, right now, every fricking ass dining at the restaurant will clearly see your delicious nipples poking, plump and round and flat-tipped, at that blasted blouse.”

“My hackles are back in full force.”

“Good. Didn’t like the worried expression you wore a few moments ago.”

The gall of the man. “That was a ruse to distract me?”

“Nope. I meant every fricking word but decided to kill two birds with one stone. There they are. Kieran said they’d be waiting outside.”

Susie hadn’t even realized they’d arrived at Barb and Kieran’s.

The second the two couples started out for Chez Pierre’s, Joe broke the silence. “We’re not lingering at this function. Kieran, Barb knows?”

“Yes. I packed an overnight bag and a change of clothes.”

Barb’s soft southern drawl reminded Susie of Tara in
Gone With the Wind.

“What’s going on?” Susie twisted so she could scan the other three.

Barb gave her a sad shrug. “They’re going after the killer.”

“Tonight?” She wished the word hadn’t come out on a squeak.

“Yes. Tate called in a few favors with the local force. We’ve hired a small squad to guard Joe’s house tonight. After the dinner, we’ll take you both back there,” Kieran explained.

The news didn’t sit well in her stomach. “Why hire a small force?”

“We’re all going after them, Susie. Kieran, Tate, Gray, and I. There’s no way in hell we’re leaving you two unprotected. Detectives Sands and Johnson dropped by with an interesting bit of news before we left the house this evening.”

The detectives must’ve been the ones at the door while Susie was in the pink room primping and pacing.

“Apparently Hugh Lee won the lottery on Saturday. Before he verified the ticket at the gas station store, he and his father took a long walk in the preserve. They stopped for a few minutes on the incline above Terri’s backyard. They saw Jeffrey Arnold open Terri’s door with a key. Jeffrey had a bulging backpack with him. Hugh filed the report this morning, and Jeffrey Arnold is now
the
person of interest in the arson case. The cops have put a BOLO out for him, and they’ve plastered his picture in all local retail premises.”

“Why were they willing to share that with you? It’s not as if you’re a favorite of the Hallie police force.”

Given what Joe’d told her earlier about Charlene Weber nee Vinters, Susie easily understood Kieran’s point of view.

“While you were at MIT, I helped Johnson’s older sister out of a date-rape situation. He thinks he owes me but, with the way Chief Vinters feels about me common knowledge in the police force, didn’t want to jeopardize his position. He figured talking one-on-one lessened the chances of anyone learning he’d given me that tidbit.”

“Gotcha. I’m guessing neither Sands nor Johnson questioned your motives for wanting guards for Susie and Barb this evening, then?” Kieran drawled.

“The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Johnson even anticipated my move by offering to stop by and check on Susie. He basically said that with Arnold on the loose, no one could be certain of Susie’s safety. I agreed with him a hundred percent, of course, mentioned you and the guys had planned a poker game tonight, and asked him if he and his partner would stand guard.” Joe figured Susie’d forgive the little white one once she knew all the facts. “So while we’re out tonight, you two will be protected by the good detectives. Don’t even think of arguing on this one.”

The conviction in Joe’s voice persuaded Susie it made no sense protesting, although she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why they would need armed, off-duty cops. At least, she assumed they’d be armed. Then it hit her.

“Gemma’s son is the killer?” Numbness settled into Susie’s brain. Her gray cells refused to process the information. Talk about being creeped out.

“It’s appearing more and more like it,” Joe replied and proceeded to tell Barb and Kieran Susie’s vision about the Arnolds’ backyard and the eyes buried there.

Jeffrey Arnold must’ve copied Terri’s house key, Susie realized. Had he been in the house while she was unpacking? Nausea coated her mouth.

“Which one do you figure for the vats, Carmine or Jeffrey, or both?” Joe glanced over his shoulder at Kieran. They had stopped at a red light.

Susie gasped. “The old man? He’s in a wheelchair. Healing from a broken hip. I’m pretty sure he was in hospital recovering from surgery when…”

“When Petey was taken.” Barb, who had been still and pale since entering Gray’s borrowed car, had lost all color completely.

“Gray’s analyzing the Arnolds’ movements and spending habits for the past six months while we’re at the party. Tate’s reconnoitering their property and checking out their alarm systems. Hopefully we’ll have answers after we’re done tonight.” The grim tone in Joe’s voice had Susie shivering.

“How long do you expect to be gone? I’m guessing you’re not sharing what your plan is, besides checking the Arnold house? What happens if you’re caught?” Susie gripped her purse so hard her fingertips burned. She detested, categorically detested not knowing.

Joe covered her hands with his. “We won’t be caught. No matter what, we never go on a mission without a fallback position. And our fallback tonight will work best if you two know as little as possible.”

Easy for him to say. He wouldn’t be sitting around twiddling his thumbs and worrying every second. Susie didn’t have time to fret any further, for they had arrived at the restaurant.

The affair at Chez Pierre turned out to be humongous. The three-story, former plantation-style house overflowed with people. Literally. Crowds spilled into the parking lot, the front lawn, and the pathways leading from one level to another. Every available seat was filled.

During the serving of the three-course dinner, several dignitaries gave overlong speeches praising Coach Ellison and forecasting a brilliant future for the Ruffians under his leadership. Susie tuned out after the first speech went past twenty minutes.

Charlene and Grant Weber, along with a dozen other people, sat at the same table as Coach Ellison and his wife. The head table had been set up against the far right wall opposite where Barb and Kieran and Susie and Joe sat.

“All the Hallie VIPs are out tonight,” Barb murmured.

Susie hadn’t seen Dr. Surgue or Dean O’Reilly. Surely they were VIPs?

“Ellison’s stacked the oiliest of them at his table.” Kieran tugged at his tie.

“What does he mean?” Susie whispered, for another speaker had begun.

“My husband thinks Bob Weber’s palms are too greasy to ever be clean. He’s at the head table. Weber’s the one on the left of Ellison. That’s Weber’s wife next to him. Most of the other guests there are Weber’s cronies and their wives. There’s a good ole boy slant to Hallie that results in shady activities being swept under the table.” Barb applauded the end of the speech.

“Is that the last speech?” Susie perused the agenda to the right of her side plate.

“Finally. I’ve been ready to go since we managed to snag the chairman of the Make-A-Wish Foundation in the lobby.” Barb patted a white napkin to the corners of her mouth. All of Barb’s plates had gone back to the kitchen virtually untouched.

“That was a stroke of luck.” The man had agreed at once to meet with Barb, Kieran, and their parents to set up a wish donation in honor of Petey.

“Yes, it was.”

Susie patted Barb’s freckled forearm. “Are you okay? You’re awfully pale.”

“I think it’s the aftereffects of the sedatives everyone keeps urging on me. I wish I hadn’t given in and taken one yesterday. I’ve been nauseated ever since. Actually I think I’m going to go to the ladies’ and splash some cold water on my cheeks.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“Joe, Kieran, we’re going to the ladies’.” Barb picked up her clutch.

“This event’s done. Why don’t we meet you in the lobby?” Kieran asked.

The ladies’ room was on one side of the lobby, the men’s on the other.

Joe threw his napkin on the table. “Deal. There’s only one entrance and exit. It should be safe enough.”

As if going to the bathroom could be dangerous. Fighting the childish notion to stick her tongue out at Joe, Susie followed in Barb’s meandering wake through the packed room.

Near the steps leading to the raised lobby, Susie spied a familiar face, Assistant Coach Bristow, who trained two of the underprivileged junior soccer teams in her thesis study.

He raised the glass in his hand when their glances met.

Susie smiled and waved, for Bristow had gone far and beyond his duty to help her with signing up boys for the trial. He had smoothed over the initial objections of the parents and invited her to the first few team/parent meetings.

To her surprise, Bristow made a beeline for Barb and halted in front of her.

Blocked by a circle of couples chatting animatedly, Susie had to change direction and reached Barb to find her alone.

Barb stared, dazedly, at a small camcorder resting in her hand.

“I didn’t realize you’d brought a camcorder.”

“I didn’t. It’s Petey’s.” A tear rolled down Barb’s wan cheek.

Petey’s camera? Was Barb losing it?

“Come on. You need to sit. The ladies’ room is right ahead.” Susie hustled Barb into the old-fashioned restroom and led her over to a patterned sofa tucked into a quiet alcove. In the corner she noticed a water cooler. “Sit. Let me get you some water and a few damp napkins.”

She hurried to get everything and glanced over her shoulder often to check on Barb, who was crying openly now.

“Here.” She handed Barb a paper cup. “Drink it all. I won’t take no for an answer.”

Barb obeyed.

Susie exchanged the cup for the damp napkins.

Barb scrubbed at her face. She squished the paper into a ball. “I thought it had been lost with him.”

The camcorder lay on the sofa. Susie didn’t quite know what to say or expect, so she clamped her lips together.

“It was indulgent of us, I know. But we knew we were only going to have him for a short time. And he loved it so. Always doing these candid camera segments. Or filming his own magic tricks.”