The Maverick (12 page)

“Not a snowball’s chance in hell,” Cass said. “You are
not
moving in with me. As a matter of fact, I need to get you out of here before my mom and aunt show up and start asking questions.”

“They’re coming here?” Griff said.

“Not to my apartment, but they’ll be in to help with the rush hour at Chili Witches. It makes them feel useful.”

Griff looked as if he wanted to say more, but, bless him, he didn’t argue. He merely shrugged. “It was worth a shot. You going to eat the rest of your toast?”

“Help yourself. Aren’t you going back to the hotel?”

“No. Since I’m going to be here so much, I want to look at some longer term options.”

She hesitated. “Longer term as in how long?”

“That depends on you.”

“No, don’t base your decisions on me. Do what you want to do.”

“Okay. I need someplace in Austin to live for a while. Any ideas?”

“I know a couple of real estate agents who may handle some rentals. Anita is on the board at POAC, and Diane is Hank Wisda’s sister.”

“Hank? The cop next door with the gun?”

“Yes, she’s less threatening than Hank.”

“Let’s call both and see what furnished places they might have available.”

Cass made the calls. Anita didn’t have anything suitable, but Diane had two or three condos she thought might do, and she could show them right away. “Want to skip the jog?”

“Yes. If I can’t stay here, I’d like to have a closet to hang my clothes.”

“Don’t pull Mr. Pitiful on me, buster,” she said, laughing. “Your car or mine?”

“Let’s take mine. I’m parked at a meter outside, and I don’t want to get a ticket.”

“Let’s boogie.” Cass grabbed her purse and they went downstairs. When they reached Griff’s rental car, she laughed and pointed to the windshield. “Too late.”

Looking disgusted, Griff pulled the ticket from his car. “And here I thought I was getting into the Austin spirit by renting a hybrid. Think Hank can get it fixed for me?”

“I wouldn’t count on it. Pay the fine. It’s probably only fifteen bucks, and you can pay online or by phone. What’s all that?” she asked, peering into the backseat at two large boxes.

“Some things that wouldn’t fit in the trunk.”

“Where’s your luggage?”

“In the trunk.”

Puzzled, she shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.” Those suckers must have cost a fortune to bring on the plane. She gave him directions to Diane’s office.

Diane, a little red-haired dynamo with a big smile, arranged for them to see three places, starting with the most distant. The first, a two-bedroom condo on the west side, with a lake view and nice furnishings, Griff said was too far out of town.

The next was in the Hyde Park area, and the furniture was Victorian with crocheted antimacassars. Cass bit back a laugh when Griff looked horrified and said, “Not exactly my style.”

The last one was a two-bedroom corner unit in a downtown high-rise, with a spectacular view of both the capitol and the lake. Its contemporary furnishings were something out of
Architectural Digest.

“The owners of this unit,” Diane said, sweeping her hand toward the open living area, “spend several months a year in Canada to be near their grandchildren. They left just three days ago, so the place is available for up to four months. It’s actually a three-bedroom unit, but the smallest bedroom is used to store their personal items. Covered parking downstairs and valet service is included, as is weekly maid service.”

“I’ll take it,” Griff said.

“Don’t you want to see the rest of the condo?”

“Sure, but I’ll take it. When can I move in?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know the price?” Diane asked.

She named a price and Cass flinched. Griff said, “I’ll take it.”

“Fantastic,” Diane said. “Let’s go back to my office and do the paperwork, and I’ll give you the key.”

As they were walking out, Griff put his arm around Cass’s waist. “Don’t you like this place?”

“It’s beautiful. But there used to be a stable and a blacksmith shop on this site. A shame.”

“Cass,” he said gently, “nowadays I don’t think there’s much call for a stable or a blacksmith in downtown Austin.”

She smiled. “You’re right, of course. So I’ll excuse you for living here.”

“Good. I don’t think I could take all those little lace doilies.”

A
FTER THE PAPERS WERE
signed and the money was paid, they stopped for lunch, then headed to Griff’s new home to drop off his belongings.

“We’ll need the trunk space for groceries later. Not only yours, but mine. I’ll need everything. Did you notice if there was a coffeemaker there?”

“I think so, but we can check when we go by. Griff, you haven’t stopped smiling. What’s up?”

“I’m happy.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Happy to be here, happy to be with you. Happy.”

She smiled. His words were like a soft, cuddly hug, and she reveled in the feeling. She was happy, too.

“Have you heard any more about your inheritance?”

“Nothing yet. Carrie said it might be a while yet.” She’d discussed the entire situation with Griff on the phone, so he was aware of Iris’s letter and her will. “Carrie called Sunny yesterday, and told her she’d spoken to Wes and Nonie about the murder. Frank knows as well, but they all decided to wait and let us tell the others in our own time.”

“Good idea. How did Wes take it?”

“In stride, the way he takes everything. Said after all the years he spent as sheriff, nothing much surprises him. He was pleased about Sunny and me getting Iris’s estate. I believe his exact words were ‘Fair enough.’”

They pulled into the underground parking garage, and Griff spoke to someone at the valet stand for a few minutes. A man soon came out with a dolly and loaded on boxes and some of the luggage. Griff took two large rolling bags and Cass took a smaller one and his laptop case.

“Did you bring everything you own?” she asked.

“Yep, almost. A few things are being shipped later. Most I sold.”

Though blown out of the water by what Griff said, she held her questions until they were upstairs and the helper had been tipped and left.

“I don’t understand,” Cass said. “What did you sell?”

“Just stuff I don’t need anymore. Things which were more trouble and expense to move than they’re worth. My apartment. The furniture. My car.”

“But why?”

His dimples flashed as he put both arms around her waist. “I told you I was considering a move to Austin. Well, now I’ve moved. Want to go check out the king-size bed in the master?”

“No, I have questions. First I want to know—”

He kissed her, and the questions burning inside her went down in flames. All she could say was, “Mmm.”

L
ATER
,
MUCH LATER
,
THEY
showered and dressed, having left the bed thoroughly initiated. Griff wore shorts, a T-shirt and flip-flops.

Cass looked him up and down as they waited for the elevator. “Way to go.”

“I feel a little underdressed.”

“Naw. You’ll get used to it.”

“Will my toes get used to these thongs?”

“Sure, they’ll toughen up. What’s in the bag?” She pointed to the small duffel he carried.

“Running shorts and shoes.”

“For running or to wear if your toes give you grief?”

He grinned. “Got me.”

They drove to her houses to check out the renovations. Cass noticed Greg’s truck there, and Griff pulled in and parked behind it.

When they got out, she shaded her eyes and looked up. “Wow, the new roof is almost finished.”

Greg came down the steps. “The roofers will finish it up tomorrow and may get the one next door done as well.” He held out his hand to Griff. “Greg Gonzales.”

“Griff Mitchell.”

“We’re hoping to get a new roof on mine before we have rain.”

“Yours?” Griff asked. “You buy one of these houses?”

“Buying. Good investment I lucked into. Mine is that one down on the corner. I’ll either rent it out or resell it.” To Cass he said, “There’s not much to see inside. We’re demolishing the kitchen and baths. Did you get the tile picked out?”

“I did. I left all the information with Reuben at the tile store. And on Friday I’ll make my final decision about cabinets and fixtures, and let you know.”

“Good.”

Two men came out of the house carrying an old sink and countertop, and tossed them into a big Dumpster between the two houses.

“We’re about to knock off,” Greg told them. “If you go inside, be careful where you step. Things are a mess.”

“We’ll wait for another time,” she said. “I just love to watch the progress.”

Greg gave a two-finger salute and walked back in the house.

“Seems like a nice guy,” Griff said.

“He is. We went to school together. He played football at UCLA for a while. I hadn’t seen him for years until people recommended him for his job, and I contacted him. He’s even joined POAC.”

“You don’t say. Guess I’ll have to sign up, too.”

“Only if you want to. Ready to go grocery shopping? You need to stock up.”

“I don’t need much,” he said.

Famous last words.

They laughed their way through the produce section as Griff piled some of every fruit in the store his cart, along with salads and potatoes. He was in heaven when the found they gourmet soup section. At the meat counter, he selected four giant rib eye steaks.

“Four?” Cass asked.

“I like steak. You think I can’t cook? I’ll cook you a steak tonight.”

“Deal.”

He went up and down the aisles, tossing stuff in his basket like a contestant on
Supermarket Sweep.
By the time he was finished, his cart was piled high, while Cass had only eggs, bread, peanut butter, coffee and milk in hers. And two oranges.

“We’d better go by your place and stow your things first,” Cass said when they were loading his car. “All that ice cream is going to melt. I don’t understand why you got so much.”

“I like ice cream.”

“But
four gallons?
”

“Ah, sweetie, don’t sweat it.” He gave her a peck as he heaved another sack into the trunk.

Back at his condo, the valet helped tote the groceries upstairs, and soon everything was put away. Cass reminded Griff that her eggs and milk were still in the car and needed to get into her fridge right away.

“You can bring your things up here,” he said. “Remember, I’m going to cook steaks for you.”

“How about we do the steaks another night? Let’s drop my stuff off, and I’ll buy you a bowl of chili. I need to make an early night of it. I have paperwork to do. We’ve decided to move forward with the frozen chili deal.”

“Great. Does this mean you can retire from the café?”

“Why would I want to retire?” She drilled his belly with her finger. “Come on, cowboy, move it. My eggs are going to hatch.”

“Let me change my shoes first. These flip-flops are a bitch.”

W
HEN THEY WALKED INTO
Chili Witches, the first person Cass saw was her mother.
Oh, crap.
Seemed that Gloria and Min had insisted Sunny take the night off to go to Jay’s school pageant.

Gloria turned to Griff and gave him an anemic smile. “How are you this evening, Mr. Griffith?”

“Fine, thank you.”

“His last name is Mitchell, Mom.
Griffin
is his first name.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Mitchell. How very silly of me. I don’t know where my mind is sometimes.”

Cass rolled her eyes. Her mother was acting like that crazy Blanche in
A Streetcar Named Desire.
Which was not her style. At all. She was playing the passive-aggressive card, and Cass wanted to strangle her big time.

“I understand,” he said. “Just call me Griff.”

“We dropped off my groceries and decided to stop by and eat,” Cass said.

“How wonderful. Would that table do?” Gloria pointed to one in the corner, as if Cass didn’t know the layout of the place down to the last saltshaker.

“That table is perfect,” Griff said to Gloria. “Could you join us?”

Cass kicked him in the ankle.

“Oh, how very sweet of you to ask, Mr. Griffith, but I’m much too busy working. And I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Griff opened his mouth, and Cass kicked him again. Harder. “Another time, Mom. Would you send someone over with a couple of beers?”

When they were seated, Griff leaned over and asked quietly, “Does your mother have memory problems?”

“Nope. She’s sharp as a tack. Sharper.”

“I was afraid of that. I don’t think she likes me.”

Cass was trying to think of an appropriate response without flat out lying when Gloria came sashaying over with two draft beers on a tray. She tripped—quite theatrically, Cass thought—and dumped both foaming mugs smack in Griff’s lap.

Horrified, Cass watched Griff’s eyes widen, but he didn’t say a word.

“Mother!” Cass grabbed a handful of napkins.

“Oh, dear merciful heavens, Mr. Griffith, I’m so sorry. Don’t move. I’ll get some towels. Jeff! Bring towels!” she shouted over her shoulder.

With the yelling, customers who’d missed the original catastrophe added their stares to the others who were gawking at the beer dripping from Griff’s lap onto the floor.

“Oh, Mr. Griffith, can you ever forgive me? Sometimes my arthritis acts up, and I get so clumsy.”

“What arthritis?” Cass said. “You don’t have arthritis.”

“Don’t worry about it, Ms. O’Connor,” Griff said. “Accidents happen. My mom has arthritis, and sometimes her hands bother her, as well.”

“Well, bless your heart, Mr. Griffith. Aren’t you the sweetest thing. Here, Jeff’s brought some towels. Let me help you clean up.” She began dabbing at his lap.

“I think I can handle it,” he said, looking pained as he grabbed the towels from Gloria.

If Cass hadn’t been so ticked off at her mother, she would
have laughed. “Let’s go upstairs to my apartment, Griff, and you can shower. I’ll wash your clothes and put them in the drier.”

It was her mother’s turn to look horrified. Good enough for her.

Griff nodded and tried to dry off as best he could. When he rose, he laughed and said loudly enough for all the gawkers to hear, “Sorry about the interruption, everybody. Dessert is on me.” He glanced down at his lap. “As is my beer.”

Everybody laughed along with him.

“Mother,” Cass muttered between clenched teeth. “We’ll talk later.”

She and Griff hurried out the back way and up to her apartment.

“Griff, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got into my mom. This isn’t like her.”

“Don’t worry, honey. Accidents happen.” He stripped off his clothes and handed them to her.

“You know and I know that what happened was no accident. Why would Mom do such a thing? I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. For some reason she doesn’t like me, and she’s a lioness protecting her cub. Give me some time. I’ll bring her around.” He gave Cass a peck on the nose. “Would you get my gym bag from the car?”

“Sure. And I’ll call downstairs and have our food delivered up here.”

“Mind if we skip the chili tonight? I’ve lost my taste for chili and beer.”

G
RIFF DECIDED TO GO
back to his condo and leave Cass to her work. She wondered if it wasn’t merely a polite kiss-off. No, he was sincere, she told herself, when he’d said it would take more than a little beer to get rid of him for good.

He might be polite and forgiving, but Cass was royally pissed at her mother, and she stomped downstairs to confront her. Aunt Min saw her come in, and hurried to meet her.

“Oh, Cass, I’m so sorry about what happened. Did Griff leave?”

“Naturally. Were you a part of the floor show?”

“Absolutely not! I was in the kitchen.”

“Where’s Mom?”

“Hiding in the office. Are you angry?”

“Of course I’m angry.” Cass wheeled and strode to the office.

Her mother was sitting behind the desk, her head in her hands. She didn’t look up when Cass slammed the door. “Why, Mom?
Why?
And don’t feed me any bull about accidents or arthritis or poor memory.”

When Gloria looked up, her eyes were red-rimmed and teary. “I—I don’t want you to get hurt, Cass. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep that from happening. I don’t trust him. I never have. From the first moment I met him, I knew he was up to something. Something deceptive. He’s using you for his own purposes. Mark my words, the man’s a charlatan.”

Cass rolled her eyes. “And what are you? Psychic?”

Her mother took a deep breath and stared directly into Cass’s eyes.

“Yes. As a matter of fact, yes, I am.”

Cass knees gave way and she plopped down in a chair. “Since when?”

“Since as long as I can remember. I screamed and fainted the moment your father was shot. Ask Min. I’d been uneasy for several days before it happened. I get feelings.”

“And you’re
never
wrong?”

“Rarely. I’m not wrong about this.”

“But, Mom, Sam Outlaw checked him out. He’s clean.”

“And exactly why did Sam, a
Texas Ranger,
check him out?”

Cass squirmed. “Bad vibes? I don’t know.”

“I’ll bet Sam didn’t trust him, either.”

“Perhaps not, but I trust him, Mom. I love Griff.”

“Oh, dear God!”

“Mom, cut the dramatics.”

“Will you promise me, promise me sincerely that you’ll find out more about him before you do something foolish?”

Cass wondered what her mother considered foolish. She’d already done everything except elope with him. “If it will ease you mind, Mom, I promise.”

“Oh, thank you, dear. Thank you.” She hurried from behind the desk and bent over to hug Cass. “Do it right away. I’ve been having such bad feelings.” She kissed Cass’s forehead and held her close in the comforting and protective way she’d always done.

“I will, Mom.”

C
ASS SAT IN FRONT OF
her computer for the longest time, indecision eating her from the inside out. Did she trust Griff or not? She’d trusted Daniel, and look where it got her. Her father had told her to follow her heart, but then he was a ghost, and she’d promised her mother, who was flesh and blood.

Oh, hell and damnation! It was a simple matter to type his name into the search engine. Checking the Internet was no big deal. It was a wonder she hadn’t done it sooner.

G-r-i-f-f-i-n M-i-t-c-h-e-l-l

She punched “Search,” closed her eyes and waited.

All kinds of Griffin Mitchells popped up, including a sixteen-year-old in Anaheim who was on Facebook, and one who had died recently in Alabama. The only ones she found
for
her
Griffin Mitchell were innocuous mentions of information she already knew about.

Her shoulders slumped in relief. Should she take it further?

In for a penny, in for a pound.

Cass picked up her cell and punched in Maddie Evert’s number.

When her friend and former colleague answered, she said, “Hey, Maddie, this is Cass. How are things in the Big Apple?” They yakked for a few minutes before Cass jumped in. “I have a big favor to ask. I know you went to Harvard. Did you happen to know a Griffin Mitchell? I’m not sure of the year he was there, but I’d guess he was ahead of you.”

Maddie didn’t know him, but suggested her older brother or cousin might. Both were Harvard educated lawyers in New York.

“Would you check around for me and find out anything you can about him? Confidentially, please. It’s, uh, business, and I want to know who I’m up against.”

Maddie agreed to ask around and call back when she heard something.

When Cass hung up, she felt slightly dirty.

More than slightly.

She took a deep breath and tried to let it go.

Looking through the stack of business mail she needed to answer, she couldn’t believe they’d received another letter from Walter Zeagler, the guy in New York who was so hot to buy the Chili Witches tract. Slicing it open, she was a bit surprised that not only had her last response not discouraged him, but he was requesting a meeting with them the following week. Why was ZASM Consulting so interested in their property?

Although she was certain what they would say, Cass set the letter aside to discuss with the family, and turned to other cor
respondence. She stopped only to have a peanut butter sandwich and a glass of milk, and by eleven she was finished and fell into bed.

But she couldn’t sleep. Her sheets smelled of Griff.

She ran her fingers over the spot where he had slept, and hugged his pillow close, breathing in the tantalizing scent of him. She loved him so. Her mother couldn’t be right about him. She just couldn’t.

A small voice inside her seemed to whisper, “He loves you, truly loves you.”

She had to believe that.

T
OWARD THE TAIL END
of rush hour, Cass looked up from the register to see Griff by the front door talking to Aunt Min. He held three smallish boxes tied with red ribbons, and she watched him present one to Min with a big smile. Cass looked around for her mother, but she must have been in the kitchen or office.

“Hi there,” Cass said, walking toward him.

“Hello yourself. I got a yen for some chili.” He handed her a box.

“He gave me one, too,” Aunt Min said, holding open a box of chocolate-covered strawberries and smiling brightly. “Aren’t they scrumptious looking?”

“Where’s your mom?” Griff asked. “I have one for her as well.”

“I’ll go see if I can locate her,” Min said. “You can seat Griff.”

When her aunt left, he said, “At least she got my name right.”

“Aunt Min is a dear.” Cass motioned to a small table by the window. “Want a beer?”

“After last night, I’m not sure I’ll ever want another beer. Do you have time to join me?”

“I’ll take a few minutes. We’re not too busy.”

They had a quiet lunch, but Gloria never showed her face. After Griff left, Cass took the other box and tracked her mother down in the office. “Griff brought this for you.”

“Oh, thank you, dear.” She set the box on the desk without even peeking inside.

Later, after Min and Gloria had left for the day, the box still sat on the desk.

Cass sighed. What a mess. She was too old to play Juliet.

A
FTER SHE CLOSED
, Cass again found Griff waiting for her on the steps to her apartment. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I was lonely. Pack a bag and come with me. I’ve bought bubble bath and more massage oil. I’ll rub your feet. And we’ll spend all day tomorrow feeding each other bananas and grapes.”

“Bananas and grapes?”

“Somebody has to eat all the fruit I bought. And I’ll cook you the steak I promised.”

Cass had to consider for only half a second. She tossed some things in an overnighter and they were off.

“Do you like Marcia Ball?” he asked.

“I adore Marcia Ball. She’s won blues awards out the kazoo.”

“Good. I heard phenomenal things about her and got tickets to her show at someplace called Antone’s tomorrow night.”

“Great. Antone’s is a nightclub on Fifth Street.”

When they arrived at his building, Griff carried her bag upstairs. “Want a glass of wine while I fix your bath?”

“I’d love a glass of wine, but you don’t have to fix my bath.”

“Don’t be so independent. Let me do this for you. Red or white?”

“White.”

He filled two glasses and handed one to her. “I’ll be right
back.” He flipped something and soft sax music drifted through the apartment. “Great sound system here.”

In a few minutes he returned, picked up her wine and pulled her to her feet. “Your bath is drawn.” He led her into his big spa-like bathroom, where a dozen candles perfumed the air and bubbles almost spilled out of the tub. “I overestimated the bubble bath a little, but I think this will do. Hop in. I’ll be right back.”

Cass didn’t have to be asked twice. She quickly shed her clothes and stepped in.

And quickly stepped out. The water was scalding hot, and her toes were boiled. She began to add some cold, but the bubbles rose higher and higher like a giant soufflé over the rim of the tub. She scooped a huge armload of foam and looked around for a place to put it.

The only logical place was the shower.

She was on her third armload when the door opened.

“What are you doing?” Griff asked.

“Moving bubbles. Help me. They’re alive and multiplying.” She handed him her load and reached for another.

“Honey, turn off the faucet.”

“I can’t find it!”

Mounds of bubbles were spilling onto the floor when Griff waded through the mess and managed to turn off the water. Hands on his hips and a disgusted expression on his face, he surveyed the foam covering the bathroom and spat out a very succinct expletive.

Cass picked up a big bunch of foam, shaped it into a huge ball and began singing “A Pretty Girl Is Like a Melody” as she danced around the room.

Griff grinned, then began to laugh until they were both roaring. He hugged her to him, squashing her ball. “Cass, you’re one of a kind. And how I love you!”