Crazy in Love (15 page)

He glanced at his watch again. Five minutes after five. It was still possible he
’d receive the perfect stroke of brilliance on exactly how to convince Flynn that she didn’t want to help him on this Gordon Chase thing. So far, all he had was that investigations involved long, boring nights of sitting in cars drinking stale coffee. They required you to sift through other people’s trash.

They got you in the path of guys like Gordon Chase.

Which, when it came down to it, was the real reason he didn’t want Flynn involved. He didn’t want her getting hurt, and he damn sure didn’t want to be the reason she got hurt. But the truth was the hardest to defend, because it was based on emotion, not logic. So…

Focus on the trash.

He released a breath. He couldn’t blame his stupidity on the booze; he’d had less than half a glass of Jameson’s over the course of three hours. Still, he’d managed to make a promise he really didn’t want to keep, and it had bugged him all night. He’d slept fitfully, his brain unable to process her into a dream, but still unwilling to release her. Why had he told her she could help him investigate Chase? Anything that really needed doing, he could do himself, and for more reasons than one she’d be best off staying as far away from it as possible. What had he been thinking?

Of course, he knew that was just it; he hadn
’t been thinking. He’d been looking at her plaintive eyes, that wild hair grazing the creamy expanse of her neck, and he couldn’t find it within himself to deny her anything she wanted. If she’d asked for the head of a unicorn, he’d have gone out looking for an axe.

Well, today he was going to have to tell her no. Although maybe it was better done over the phone. Over the phone, it would be easier. No eyes, no hair, no flowery shampoo smell to worm its way into his head and make him stupid.

As if on cue, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID: Goodhouse Arms. He raised his eyes heavenward.

“
I would have gotten to it,” he grumbled, then picked up the phone and hit the talk button.

“
Yeah,” he said gruffly, trying to sound as though he wasn’t excited to hear her voice. It was more work than he’d expected.

“
Jake? Turn on your TV.”

He released a breath as a mix of relief and disappointment flowed through him.
“Mercy?”

“
Channel Four. Right now. Turn it on!”

“
Okay. Jesus. Just a minute.” He threw his legs over the side of the bed and hitched up his boxers as he padded out into his living room. “What’s going on?”

“
Oh, crapola. It’s gone. Well, they’ll run it again. Turn it on anyway.”

He grabbed the remote and pointed it at the television.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“
The news,” she hissed into the phone, as though she was trying not to be heard by anyone else. “It’s my saucier!”

He rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on the images. Some woman in a suit behind a desk, talking. Nothing too interesting there.

“Merce, whatever’s going on, can it wait until I get in to…?” He trailed off as the screen cut to images of the Hudson River, and what looked like a team pulling a body out of the water.

“
There it is!” Mercy said, right as the video cut to a
dented silver pan with what looked like a bungee cord knotted around the handle.

“…
weighted down with bricks and what looks to be some sort of pan, possibly the murder weapon. Authorities ask that anyone with any…”

Mercy
’s voice toppled over the anchor’s. “Pan! It’s not a pan. It’s an All-Clad copper-core saucier, you brainless wench. And it’s
mine
!”

“
Wait a minute, Merce. How could you possibly know it’s yours?”

“
How many people in this area do you think use All-Clad copper core sauciers?”

“
If I knew what you were talking about, I’d venture a guess.”

“
Ohhhh,” she groaned. “It’s
dented
!
Do you know how much those things cost? It was one thing when I thought someone had stolen it to sell on the black market—”

He wandered into the kitchen.
“There’s a black market for sauciers? In Shiny?”

Mercy released an aggravated sigh.
“I tried to get you to look into it. But oh
noooooo
. You’re too good to investigate my missing
three-hundred-dollar
saucier.”

He snorted.
“You paid three hundred dollars for a pan?”

“
It’s not a
pan,
goddamnit! It’s an All-Clad copper-core saucier, and that’s not the point. Someone killed someone with my saucier!”

Jake grabbed a mug from the cabinet and filled it with water.
“All right. Calm down. Are you sure it’s yours?”

There was the sound of careful breathing for a few moments, followed by a long sigh, and when Mercy returned, her voice was calm.
“Factor it, Jake. It’s a three-hundred
dollar saucier, exactly like the one that went missing. What are the chances that it’s
not
mine? Besides, I just
know.
I felt it, as soon as I saw it.”

Jake had learned a long time ago not to argue with women
’s intuition. Not only did it piss the woman in question off, which never worked in his favor, the plain fact was that more often than not, she was right. He put the mug in the microwave and reached for the instant coffee. “Okay. So it’s yours. When did it go missing?”

“
Last spring. Remember? I told you about it, and you ignored me.”

“
I remember the radishes.”

Mercy released a harsh sigh of frustration.
“This was before that. Although I did bring it up again on the night with the radishes and you ignored me—again. God, Jake. Do you ever listen to me?”

Jake decided that was a question best left unanswered.
“Look. Call the police and tell them it’s yours. Tell them when it went missing, as many details as you can remember.”

“
But, Jake…” There was a long pause. “It was taken from my kitchen.
My
kitchen. No one has access except employees, and sometimes friends or whatever, but it’s not Main Street.” Her voice lowered into a whisper. “What if someone here is a murderer?”

“
You’re jumping to conclusions, Mercy. I mean, it’s possible that someone stole it, sold it, and then it got into the hands of the murderer. Someone at the Arms is a thief, but not necessarily a murderer.” Even as he said the words, something niggled at the back of his brain. If he included Esther’s death, then that made two potentially suspicious expirations linked with the Arms. It was a little too coincidental for comfort, but there was no need to say that to Mercy. She was freaked out enough as it was.

He pulled the mug out of the microwave while Mercy rattled on about the saucier and how it had always been her favorite, letting it slide that there had been a person on the business end of that pan who probably felt less affection for it. He pretended to listen, adding an encouraging,
“Mmm-hmmm,” here and there while his mind wandered over the new terrain. It wasn’t until the anchor returned to the hot story, rerunning the footage, that something in the background of the saucier shot caught his attention.

It was a plastic evidence bag, which held a flask. Jake grabbed his remote and rewound live TV, thanking God and his cable company for
digital video recorders. He paused the video on the frame and released a breath.

The flask had something shiny around the cap. Something that looked a lot like rhinestones. He quickly calculated the facts.

The saucier went missing last spring. So did Elaine Placie. As for rhinestone flasks, he could only remember ever seeing one, and it had belonged to Elaine. Not to mention that women like Elaine Placie had a tendency toward making enemies…

“
Crap,” he muttered.

“
Jake? Are you listening to me?” Mercy hissed through the phone.

“
Gotta go,” he said, and disconnected the call. He tossed the handset on the couch and stared at the screen, his mind oddly calm as it processed the new information.

Elaine Placie hadn
’t skipped town, after all. Although someone had put a fair amount of elbow grease into making it seem that way. And Jake had a strong feeling he knew exactly who.

He headed for the shower. He wanted to be calm, clean, and in control when he told Flynn that there was no way in hell he was letting her get within a country mile of Gordon Chase.

Also, if he got caught breaking into Chase’s office that night, he figured the least he could do for his mother was to look well-groomed in his mug shot. It’s those small touches that mean so much.

***

“Flynn? You in there?” Jake stepped back as he heard some movement inside the cottage and looked around. The porch was cleared of the rocker from the day before, and two brand new locks gleamed at him against the freshly replaced and painted doorjamb. Unfortunately, he didn’t hear either of them turn before Flynn opened the door.

“
You know, locks are much more effective if you actually lock...”

He trailed off at the sight of her. Flynn smiled, tilting her head as she attached a long, dangling silver earring to her right earlobe. It matched the silver necklace that decorated the space between her breasts, a space that was bared to bursting because the little black dress she was wearing was big on the
little
part.

“
Hi.” Flynn stepped aside to let him in. “What are you doing here?”

He swallowed, raised his focus up to her eyes.
“I needed to talk to you about... Are you going somewhere?”

“
Yes,” she said, grinning. “I have a date.”

He stared at her, his mind going blank for a moment.
“Did we have plans?”

“
No.
I
have plans.” She turned her back to him, heading for the bedroom. Jake waited for a long minute, then followed her in to find her inspecting her reflection in a standing mirror in the corner. “I know I promised you I’d talk to you first, but it all happened so fast that I just went with it. Gordon showed up at the office about a half hour ago and asked me out for tonight, so I thought it’d be a perfect chance for you to use that key. I called in Carole to cover your shift tonight, and Gordon will be here in about twenty minutes, so you really should get going.”

Smooth, calculated curls of hair fell about the back of her neck and shoulders, but the rest of her typically wild mop was pulled up, held in a loose knot at the back of her head with what looked like two ornate chopsticks. She pumped her lips and swiped her pinkie lightly along one edge of her mouth. For a brief moment, Jake lost his place in the conversation, but then he remembered that she was primping for Chase, and he took a step toward her.

“Call him. Tell him you’re not going.”

She looked at him like he was crazy.
“What? Why? This is a perfect chance for you to get into that office. I thought you’d be happy.”

Jake pulled out his cell phone, flipped it open, and punched Chase
’s number in.

“
Tucker, what are you doing?”

Jake put the phone in her hand.
“Just hit the green button. When he answers, tell him you’re not going out with him. Ever.”

Flynn took the phone, flipped it shut, and handed it back.
“No. My father asked me to take a meeting with him, and you need him out of the way for a while. Two birds, one stone. You should be gone when he gets here, though. It’s not very stealthy if he sees us together.”

Jake flipped the phone open again.
“He’s not going to see me here, because he’s not coming to pick you up, because you’re canceling.”

He started punching the numbers into the phone, but Flynn put her hand over his to stop him.

“Tucker, what’s going on? Last night you were fine with this.”

He raised his eyes to hers.
“Last night I thought Elaine Placie was still alive.”

Flynn stared at him for a long moment, then pulled her hand off of his.
“Who’s Elaine Placie?”

“
The girl with the rhinestone flask.”

Flynn
’s eyes widened. “The one who helped Chase get that laptop?”

Jake nodded.
“They pulled her body out of the river last night. They haven’t identified her yet, but it’s her.” He continued dialing Chase’s number and handed the phone to Flynn. “So. Call.”

Flynn took the phone in her hand and stared down at it, then flipped it shut again and handed it back to Jake, her expression confident and determined.
“I don’t think it was him.”