Mad About You (20 page)

"Well, I don't know about this Mercer woman, but I think Ms. McKray is very nice."

"So do I," James agreed, his thoughts turning back to their morning romp.

"And I'm sorry she got dragged into this mess."

"So am I." Then he wouldn't have lost his heart to her, and wouldn't have to miss her when he left.

"Why do you think someone tried to set her up?"

James pursed his lips. "To detract attention from themselves."

Tenner drummed his finger on the armrest. "Do you think it's worth our time to conduct these employee interviews?"

"You
don't have a choice," James said. Tenner would be on his own soon. "Did you discover anything interesting in the background checks?"

"Guy Trent was married several years back to a woman from Chinatown. They have a child together."

"So he has possible connections to unload stolen goods on the Chinatown black market."

"Yep."

"What about Andy Wharton?"

"A bit of a geek, but according to his resume and letters of reference, his work is well thought of. He doesn't strike me as being very bright, though."

Considering the source, James bit back a smile. "What about the security guards?"

"Carl Jays is the only one with a pimple—he was fired from an art gallery across town for 'improper procedures.' I called a former coworker of his who told me Carl used to show up for work, sign in, leave and go to another night watch job. Then he'd come back in time to sign out."

So the man was either extremely industrious or just plain stupid, James thought, smiling wryly. "Has he always worked for art galleries?"

Tenner twisted and reached in the backseat for the files, his breathing so labored after the effort that James regretted his question. Wheezing, the detective scanned the files, then said, "Yeah. Started right out of high school and hopped from one gallery to another for the last fifteen years."

James looked at Tenner. "Could the attraction be supplemental income from stolen art? What does he drive?"

After flipping another page or two, Tenner grunted. "A late model Lexus. Pretty nice car for a man who makes around thirty thousand a year." He expelled a noisy breath, whistling through his chewing gum. "I wish you would stick around, Donovan. I could sure use your help."

Feeling a tiny burst of affection for the clumsy man, James said, "Detective, I have every confidence that you will apprehend the criminal. And when you do, give him a punch for me over the trouble he caused Ms. McKray."

The detective smiled wide, snapping his gum. "You got it bad for her, don't you?"

"I'm not familiar with the term, but if you mean am I attracted—"

"Nah, son, it's more than that, ain't it?" Snap, snap. "Ever been married?"

"Er, no."

"Never been in love before, huh?"

James sighed, unwilling to discuss his private life with the man. "That's not the sort of thing I'd do."

Tenner cackled. "Son, you're in big trouble if you think it's something you can control. You can wear a bulletproof vest to protect your heart from guns and knives and such, but there ain't nothing in this world that'll keep a woman from getting in."

As Kat's face appeared in his mind, James's chest tightened and he felt the beginning of a headache in his temple. He shifted, feeling tired and itchy. If being in love felt this bad, it couldn't be good.

Tenner rubbed his chest, dislodging a belch. "Yep, ain't nothing to do but lie down and take it like a man."

Chapter Thirteen

"KAT!" ANDY WHARTON’S face lit up and he clasped her in a rocking bear hug. "Thank God you're back. I told you we couldn't do the open house without you."

Guy snorted. "Andy's just glad his load will be lightened."

Andy lowered his voice as Guy walked out of hearing distance. "Napoleon is so worried about the open house, he made everyone come in over the weekend. Guy says you're going to be here through Friday?"

"Right. Just to tie up loose ends."

"You're leaving at a good time," he said. "I hear we're being audited again and you'll be safely out of range."

Kat frowned slightly. "Out of range?"

"Well, you know how it was last time—answering questions, interruptions all the time. Besides, I'm sure it would bring back sad memories for you."

She nodded, touched by his concern. Her dad had liked working with Andy, and she was grateful for his friendship.

"Listen, Kat… I know you always said you wouldn't date a coworker, and now that you're leaving, well..." His smile was shy. "I'm in L.A, occasionally—can I call you sometime?"

She suddenly realized that Andy was a cute guy, with a fresh face and large, expressive eyes. And she had always enjoyed his company. Maybe he wasn't her dream man, but he might be just the friend she needed to get over James. Her smile was wide and sincere. "I'd like that very much."

"Really? Great.
That's...
just great." He lifted his hand in a pleased wave and backed away, nodding.

Kat laughed to herself, feeling good about making plans for her new life in L.A. Her friend from college, John Cloff, said he could use her at his folk art gallery for as many hours a week as she wanted to work until she found a place to open her antique-furniture store.

Kat inhaled deeply. Things were definitely looking up—Officer Raines had even arranged for her van to be towed back to the gallery parking lot. She'd come by to pick it up, along with a copy of the contract she'd signed with Guy and her notebook of caterers, florists, musicians, and dozens of other service people who needed to be contacted with last-minute instructions before Thursday.

She grabbed her purse and turned to leave, shuddering slightly when she remembered that the last time she'd left the gallery, she'd been handcuffed. Over a single long weekend, her life had changed so much, it was scarcely believable. She'd been arrested, freed, prompted to take an overdue step in her career, and in between, she'd managed to fall in love.

She tried to be glib about her feelings for James because it helped her deal with the hurt. People fell in love every day—she was realistic enough to know that a happy ending did not necessarily follow. Besides, James didn't feel the same way about her...and even if he did, it took more than love to make a relationship work. So the sooner she forgot about him, the better.

"Hallo, Pussy-Kat."

She jerked her head up, her heart jumping at the sound of his voice. He stood beside Detective Tenner, his brows knitted into one long, dark line. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I was preparing to ask you the same question. Clearing your desk?"

After ordering her pulse to slow, she smiled brightly. "Not exactly—Guy needs my help for the rest of this week, and he's making it worth my while."

"I sincerely hope so," James said, his voice dubious.

"I didn't realize you were coming with Detective Tenner," Kat said. If she had, she might have taken the time to change from her old jeans and paint-splattered sweatshirt. She'd planned to simply run in and get the notebook, return home to make her business calls, take a shower, and then, like a lovestruck teenager, wait for him to drop by to say goodbye.

"I had a few hours to kill," he said with an easy shrug. "I was planning to stop by your place to say so long, and to see if your locks have been changed."

"Oh, um, yes, they've been changed." She squeezed the notebook to her chest and laughed cheerfully. "Now you won't have to stop by and you'll have more time to get to the airport." She'd given him an out if he wanted to take it.

He was silent for a few seconds, his eyes unreadable. "I suppose you're right."

Tenner coughed. "Want me to go ahead and get started, Donovan?"

James kept his gaze locked on her. "Sure, Detective, I'll catch up with you in a few minutes."

She watched Tenner leave, then shifted her heavy notebook to her hip.

"Why did you come back?" he asked, his voice resonating with anger.

Tiny hairs rose on the nape of her neck. She jammed her glasses higher on her nose and lifted her chin. "James, it's only for a few days and I need the money."

He strode toward her, then wrapped his hand around her wrist. "I will give you the damn money to get you away from this place—how much is the little weasel paying you?"

She fumed at his reaction, then pulled her arm away. "I don't want your money."

"James," came a silky voice from the doorway. "Since when do you have to get rough with your women?"

Kat turned to see what could only be described as the most gorgeous woman she'd ever seen standing with her hand on one slim hip, her perfect eyebrows in the air, her stunning gaze directed at James.

"Tania?" His eyes were wide with surprise.

"In the flesh," she said with a honeyed smile, and Kat had to agree, since so much of it was showing. She wore the briefest of minis and a loose crop top in taupe linen with a jacket to match slung over her shoulder. The bag and shoes alone probably cost more than Kat's entire wardrobe. And the flat little outie belly button...well, even if Kat won the lottery, that fixture was a pipe dream.

Flipping her chic, precision-cut hair, the woman walked toward them with such smoothness, Kat wondered if her pointed-toed, crocodile stilettos were equipped with rollers. Her gaze flicked over Kat in quick dismissal. From her accent and her bearing, Kat guessed the visitor's identity, which James' introduction verified.

"Katherine McKray, this is Tania Mercer."

Kat conjured up a smile and extended her hand, which still bore the slight yellowing stains of wood dye. "How do you—"

"James," Tania said, turning away, her eyes wide. "Tell me this isn't the woman who stole my letter?"

His mouth quirked. "No, Tania. The charges against Kat have been dropped."

She glanced back to Kat warily. "Are you quite sure she didn't do it?"

"Yes, Ms. Mercer," Kat said distinctly, dropping her hand. "Quite."

Lady Mercer narrowed her eyes, apparently unconvinced.

"Tania," James said evenly, "what are you doing here?"

She flashed him a brilliant smile, and laid a manicured hand on his arm. "Darling, instead of meeting you in New York, I thought I would come and release you from this nonsense, then we could fly out together. Are you surprised?"

Kat gave him credit—he certainly
looked
surprised.

"I didn't realize we had decided you would join me in New York."

"Oh, James," she said with a laugh and a wave. "We really should try to
talk
more when we're together. I'm starving—let's get a bite to eat, shall we?"

Her feelings smarting, Kat began to back away quietly.

"Tania, you must not have received my message—I was planning to leave for New York tonight anyway."

She frowned beautifully. "No, I didn't. I've been pining away for you at the London cottage and decided to come straight away. Poor Mary doesn't even know I'm here."

When Kat felt safely out of range, she turned and hurried down a long hallway toward the back exit, then pushed the release bar and stepped out into the parking lot. If that was the kind of woman James wanted, he'd probably been laughing at Kat behind her back. When she heard James call after her from the doorway, she quickly blinked away hot, absurd tears.

"Kat," he said loudly, striding up behind her and touching her forearm. "We weren't finished talking."

"Yes, James, we were."

He frowned. "I don't like the notion of you coming back here—doesn't it bother you knowing the person who stole your things and planted evidence could very well be employed here, or perhaps signing your paycheck?"

She chewed on the inside of her cheek during his speech, then brushed back a wild strand of hair the wind had caught. "Sure it does, but whoever it was got what they wanted—the letter—and the charges against me have been dropped. I've been working in a near-hostile environment for years, four more days isn't going to kill me."

Kat turned and marched in the direction of her dilapidated van, which had been pulled to the farthest corner of the long parking lot and left at an odd angle. Suddenly she felt a shove against her chest, as if a wall had walked into her, followed by a horrific explosion that rocked the ground where she'd been thrown facedown. Instinctively, she covered her head with her arms, and felt debris raining down around her. A piercing wail, like an unrelenting dog whistle, whined in her ears, blocking out everything else. She lay frozen, not sure what had happened, but very sure it was bad.

Strong hands grabbed her shoulders and rolled her over, and she struck out wildly, terrified. But the hands subdued her arms and held her still. James came into focus, faded, and came back His mouth moved and he looked angry—no, not angry… scared. She blinked hard, trying to read his lips, trying to comprehend what had happened. At last, his voice came to her in muffled syllables, still unrecognizable, but blessed confirmation that she was not deaf.

She concentrated on his wide, searching eyes, and tensed her limbs, one by one to see if they were still attached. When she realized that he was desperately trying to get her to respond to him, she nodded slowly, and his face relaxed in relief. He yelled something to someone behind him, but Kat's head felt too heavy to lift and look around.

The fact that an explosion had occurred leaked into her brain. From the gallery? A neighboring building? A gas line perhaps? Other faces appeared over hers, some distantly recognizable.

James waved everyone back and hovered over her, stroking her hair back from her face. His hair was tousled and his impeccable clothes disheveled, which struck her as funny for some reason, and she smiled up at him. He leaned closer, tilted his head and winked at her, but his eyes were still clouded with concern.