Maybe Baby (24 page)

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Finn’s tone tightened a bit. “Who’s Simon? Dana, are you okay?”

“No,” she said. “I said a half hour.”

“What—?”

She hung up the phone and turned back to face Simon. “Nothing to do but wait.”

She forced a smile and tried not to panic. Either there was some decency in Finn, and he would return with the bird and save her life…

… or she was totally, completely, unequivocally, absolutely screwed.

“Hey,” she said, clapping her hands together. “Who needs a drink?”

***

In the bar, Nick glanced up at the clock. It had been ten minutes. Through the window, all he could see was the red SUV parked out front. How long did it take to get the bird and get gone? They’d been in there for way too long.

“Would you ask him to stop that pacing?” Vivian said from her barstool. “He’s making me motion sick.”

Babs walked over to Nick and put her hand on his arm. “What do you think?”

“I think they’ve been there too long,” he said.

“I need a drink.” Vivian stepped off the stool and went behind the bar.

Babs glanced through the window at the house, then back up at Nick. “Can you get over there without him seeing you?”

Nick thought for a moment. There was a back path through the vineyard, but the plants were thin this time of year. He was pretty sure he could get through without being seen, though.

He nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Okay,” Babs said. “Then go.”

“God,” Vivian said, popping back up from behind the bar. “Don’t you people have anything but wine?”

“Open a chardonnay and shut up,” Babs said, then turned back to Nick. “I’m counting on you, Nick. You keep her safe.”

Nick nodded, pulled the door open, then turned back to Babs for a brief second. “Lock the door behind me, and don’t let anyone in, okay?”

“Go get her,” Babs said. Nick walked out, shutting the door quietly behind him and cutting around the back to the vineyard.

She lives through this,
he thought to himself as he ducked and ran down the back path,
I’m gonna kill her myself.

***

Vivian watched Babs lock the door behind Nick, then poured two glasses of chardonnay and set one on the bar for Babs. Babs returned and took the glass, playing with the stem between her fingers as she stared at the bar.

“I’m sorry about your daughter, Babs,” Vivian said sweetly. “I’m sure she’ll be just fine.”

Babs eyed her suspiciously. “Thanks.”

“Darla seems like a very nice girl.”

“Dana.”

“Whatever. And you know what I think would be a great idea? Why don’t we go over there and help Neil save her?”

Babs gave her a disgusted look. “Give it up, Vivian. The bird is gone.”

Vivian stomped her foot. “That bird is worth twenty-five million to me, Babs.”

Babs gave Vivian a dark look, took a drink, set her wine down on the bar, and pushed herself off the barstool.

“I’ll be right back,” she said. “Between that car ride and the past fifteen minutes, my bladder is launching a formal protest. You so much as move from that spot, Vivian, and I’ll stab you to death with a corkscrew, I swear it.”

Vivian watched as Babs walked slowly toward a door in the corner of the room. Once it was shut, Vivian tiptoed across the room to the cellar door. She flicked the lock on the outside and turned the inside knob. It held. She knelt and checked it out.

Yep. The only keyhole was on the outside. Even Babs wouldn’t be able to get out of this one. Not fast enough, anyway.

The water shut off in the bathroom. Vivian left the door slightly ajar and hurried back to her place behind the bar, settling her elbows on it just as Babs stepped back into the room.

“Did I hear something moving around out here?” Vivian grinned.

“Oh, I was just checking out the merchandise. There’s some lovely stuff. I think I’d like to pick up a couple of T-shirts while I’m here.”

Babs eyed her warily. It didn’t matter. Let her be suspicious. All she had to do was figure out a way to get Babs in that cellar, shut the door, and make it over to the main house before her bird went bye-bye. This nonsense about waiting around for Cheekbones to save the day was just stupid. Even if he did, he had no motivation to get the bird for Vivian, and damnit, she needed that bird.

And come hell or high water, she was going to get it.

Vivian grinned at Babs and lifted the bottle of wine. “You know,I’ve made a decision. You’re right. Dana’s safety is more important than my stupid inheritance.”

Babs gave her a tired look.

“Oh yeah?” she said flatly.

“Absolutely,” Vivian said. “Things will work out, I believe that. Gary can work for a living doing… something. And sure, we’ll lose the house and all our pretty things.” She fought the lump in her throat to make her voice sound contrite. “And I’m sorry that I let Gary kidnap you. That was just crazy. And very rude. 1 apologize.”

“What do you want, Viv?”

Vivian smiled. “This chardonnay is cra—” She stopped herself and redirected. “Not very good. Everyone knows they keep the best stuff in the cellar at places like this. What do you say you and I go raid the cellar and drink to Dana’s safe return?”

Babs sighed. “Will it shut you up?”

Vivian grinned. “Absolutely.”

Babs shuffled off the barstool. “Let’s go.”

***

Bent at the waist, Nick scrambled the last bit between the cover of the vineyard and the back of the house, then froze, listening. He could hear the soft tones of Dana’s voice, and he exhaled. She was safe.

For the moment, anyway.

Silently, he crept close to the back door. Simon was speaking. Nick couldn’t hear what he was saying, but Simon seemed calm. Nick poked his head around the back window, where he could see a bit through the curtain. Dana and Simon were sitting at the table.

Drinking wine.

Nick blinked, looked again.

Yes, they were drinking wine. And the bird wasn’t there, at least not where Nick could see it. He ducked behind the house again.

Where was it?

He glanced to either side and snuck around the side of the house, coming up behind the carport…

… where the driveway was empty. Where was the van?

Nick groaned as it hit him.
Sparky.

“Honest eyes, my ass,” he muttered to himself. Dana was in there with a murderous Kiwi, and Finn had run off with the bird. Great.

Nick pressed himself against the wall. Think. Think. He hadn’t seen the gun out, so probably Simon had it tucked in the back of his jeans. If he busted in the back door, he could probably get to Simon before…

The sound of a car pulling up the gravel drive stopped him. He crept along the side of the house and peeked over, expecting the van. Instead, a silver Lincoln Continental pulled to a stop in front of the house. Nick squinted as he watched the driver.

No. It couldn’t be.

The door opened, and two long legs sporting stiletto heels swung out. Dark gray skirt with a dark gray blouse, buttons open to reveal the top of a silk camisole and some generous cleavage. Platinum blond hair fell to her shoulders, framing a heavily made-up face.

Melanie.

***

Dana downed the last of her wine and glanced at her watch. She had maybe fifteen minutes before Simon started asking questions, found out she didn’t have the bird, shot her, and left her for dead.

She poured another glass.

“So, then we knocked him out and duct-taped him to an office chair,” Dana said, trying to pull off a convincing, relaxed laugh. It came out more like a choking cackle. “As it turns out, we should have left him there.”

Simon raised an eyebrow. “Really? Why’s that?”

Dana froze for a moment, then smiled and shrugged. “Long story. But we’ve been talking about me enough, Simon. Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself?”

“Me? I’m the quiet type,” Simon said.

“That’s nice.”

Dana took another drink and tried to smile. She was going to die. She was going to die because of a big, fat, smelly, ugly, stupid green chicken.

And she was going to die without ever getting the chance to tell Nick how stupid she was about the whole marriage thing, how much she wanted to grow old with him and have fat children who would give them fat grandchildren and what the hell good was a stupid moment of clarity if it took a Kiwi with a gun to her head to make her see clearly?

Heat struck behind her eyes and she sniffled, pushing it back. Now was not the time to get all weepy because she’d been too stupid to marry the man she loved. Now was the time to get killed by a bald Kiwi with anger-management issues.

“So,” she said, trying to keep her voice level, “you ever been married, Simon?”

Before he could answer, there was a knock at the door. Dana jumped and gave a little squeal of surprise.

“Little skittish, there, pet?” Simon asked. He reached behind his jacket, Dana guessed so he could have quick access to the gun that would be killing her momentarily. “Answer it.”

“Sure,” Dana said, standing up on wobbly legs. “Sure, that’s what I’ll do.”

She crossed the room to the front door. The image through the glass wasn’t Finn. With those breasts and that hair, there was only one person it could be, and it
couldn’t
be her.

Except it was. Dana took a deep breath, put her hand on the doorknob, and opened it.

“Melanie Biggs,” she said flatly.

Melanie put on a tremendous, and thoroughly fake, smile. “Dana! So good to see you! You look gorgeous, sweetie, but then you always did.” Melanie peeked around Dana’s shoulder and her smile widened. “Hello. That’s not Nick.”

Melanie pushed in past Dana and made her way across the room to Simon, her arm outstretched. Dana kicked the door shut and followed.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Melanie. So nice to meet you.”

“Where’s the bird?” Simon asked.

Dana glanced at the wine bottle on the table. All she had to do was distract Simon, then she could hit him with the bottle, grab Melanie, and toss them both out the back door. But how to distract him?

“Bird?” Melanie said, her perfectly plucked eyebrows crinkling daintily. She and her tremendous breasts turned to face Dana. “What’s this about a bird?”

Tremendous breasts. Dana smiled.

No. I can’t. It’s too evil.

“Oh, wait. Am I interrupting something… kinky?” Melanie tilted her head at Dana, blinking innocence. “And where is Nick? Does he know about you two?”

Dana smiled wider. Evil be damned. If anyone had earned this, it was Melanie. And Dana was pretty sure she could pull it off without getting Melanie shot. She nudged Melanie and her breasts toward Simon.

“This is Simon, Mel,” Dana said. “He’s here for the bird. Go get it, will you?”

Melanie gave a confused laugh and rested the fingers of her right hand gently over her throat. “I’m afraid… I don’t know—”

Simon blinked at Dana, then looked at Melanie, his eyes pulled by testosterone toward Melanie’s breasts. Dana smiled. Finally, those things were coming in handy.

“I knew it,” Dana said. “You took the bird and sold it yourself, didn’t you, Mel?”

Melanie gave her a confused look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do.” Dana stole another glance at the wine bottle, catching something move at the back door. She stared for a moment, and her heart exploded in her chest. Nick.

Oh thank God.

Nick met her eye through the window. He nodded toward Simon, and Dana nodded back, knowing what he needed her to do. She stepped closer to Melanie, keeping Simon’s attention away from the door behind him.

“I think I’ve had enough of this,” Melanie said, backing away from Simon. Dana grabbed Melanie’s arm, turning her so that her breasts were facing Simon.

“She did it,” Dana said. “She double-crossed us. She’s a big, fat double-crosser.”

“Hey!” Melanie shrieked. “I am
not
fat!”

Simon’s eyes narrowed and locked on Dana. “What are you playing at here, pet?”

“Nothing,” Dana said. In her peripheral vision, she could see Nick rising at the back door, waiting on her signal to jump in. “She took the bird and sold it and kept the money for herself. I think you should shoot her.”

“What?”
Melanie screamed, turning to Dana. Dana tossed Melanie at Simon, who instinctively reached out and caught her. At that moment, Nick burst in, tackled Simon and brought him to the ground, sending the gun skittering under the table. Nick landed two quick punches before Simon pushed him off. Melanie scrambled across the room to Dana’s side. Dana reached down and pulled her up as the men fought.

“What the… hell was… that?” she said breathlessly, swiping at her skirt.

“A little fun,” Dana said. “Mostly distraction.”

Nick swung at Simon, clocking him across the chin. Melanie clutched at Dana’s arm, shrinking behind Dana like a frightened kitten.

“What’s going on here?” Melanie shrieked. “Why is that man hitting Nick?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Dana said, trying to move closer to the wine bottle, but Melanie only tightened her grip. “Let me go. I need to help him.”

“No!” Melanie said, yanking Dana back. “That man had a gun. You have to protect me!”

“I don’t care about you,” Dana said, yanking Melanie with her as she tried to wrench her arm away. “What the hell are you doing here, anyway?”

“I thought I’d pay an old friend a visit,” Melanie said, peeking up over Dana’s shoulder to get a glimpse of the fight.

“Well, go visit her then!”

Simon gut-punched Nick, sending him back a few feet.

Dana and Melanie both shrieked, “Nick!” in unison.

“Hey!” Dana said. “Don’t you call his name!”

“What? You don’t own him!” Melanie shot back.

“Good God, Melanie, it was tenth grade!” Dana yelled. “Get over it already!”

“I should have won that election!” Melanie yelled back. Dana narrowed her eyes at Melanie and opened her mouth to say something when the sound of a gunshot rang through the house, followed closely by shattering glass and Dana and Melanie both yelling, “Nick!”