The Throwbacks (11 page)

“What about us?” Theresa asked.

“What about us?” Rick asked her back with a puzzled look.

“We stay put for now,” Nick told her. “I’ll let you know when I find something out about the gallery,” he said to Dan.

“Okay. We’ll send someone down there first thing in the morning. We’ll have David set it up through the local gallery manager,” Dan said.

“I know the drill,” Nick said.

“This is exciting!” Grace said.

“This is going to be boring,” Theresa said.

David nodded at Dan, gave Grace one last look and headed for the door before the friction got any hotter. He wouldn’t want to be hanging around the loft with that group for the next seven days. When he got to the door he turned to them before leaving.

“Remember, we have some uniforms out here keeping watch. No one gets in and equally importantly—no one goes out either—except you, Grace.” David ducked out the door with Dan on his heels.

Grace popped back to her office to collect her things for David’s home. She didn’t know if she was more excited to tell Sophia-the-Pixie all about her morning, or if she was more excited about going over David’s to show him her proposal for turning the empty shell where he lived into a home. After checking in at her office, she parked herself in front of Sophia’s cubicle, watching her friend sketch out a room, until she looked up.

“How did it go this morning?” Sophia asked. “Did you get them all settled? The boss was upset at the loss of the design job for Theresa and Rick’s new place.”

“It’s only been postponed. Batman was there.”

Sophia’s head popped up at that.

“What happened? Tell all,” she said.

“I can’t—I’m sworn to secrecy.”

“Don’t worry about that. I already know about the murder, or should I say fake murder? Theresa spilled the beans—by accident. She said something to Nick while I was on the phone with her last night about canceling the job. So you may as well tell me all about it.”

“David’s not going to like this.” She frowned, but only for a moment. “I’m actually helping with the case, and I’m starting to feel like David’s detective sidekick.” Her goose bumps rose thinking about it.

“I’m sure his real sidekick, Dick Tracy, would have something to say about that—and nothing good.” Her pixie friend shook her head in disapproval.

Grace sat on the edge of her desk and folded her arms. “Don’t worry about him—I’ll win him over.” Somehow.

“So what happened?” Sophia blew her bright red bangs from in front of her eyes. Grace figured it was exasperation just as much as to clear her view.

“I broke the Aquinas vase that Nick bought for Rick and Theresa’s wedding gift and—”

“You what? That doesn’t sound helpful.”

“Normally, I’d have been heartbroken, but there was an important clue inside.” Grace enjoyed the skeptical look on her friend’s face.

“Even though this sounds like something from a bad imitation of a Sherlock Holmes novel, go on.”

“There was an ancient copper artifact inside and they needed an archeologist so I suggested—”

“Dr. Doris.”

“Exactly. I have to call her again now and arrange a meeting this afternoon. Cross your fingers that she’s in town. She could be in South America.” Grace tapped the numbers on the phone on Sophia’s desk with one hand while crossing her fingers with the other. Not that she was superstitious, but it didn’t hurt to cover the bases.

The woman answered on the first ring.

“Grace Rogers? What a delightful surprise to hear from you,” Dr. Doris said before Grace could say a word.

“I’m glad you think so, Dr. Doris. I have a strange favor to ask you. It’s important police work.” Grace gave Sophia a puzzled look when Dr. Doris’s response was uncontrollable laughter. Her pixie friend smirked knowingly.

“I’m serious. I know it sounds strange, but I’m working with the Boston police chief and his consultant from Scotland Yard.” Grace paused while Dr. Doris continued to laugh. “Really now, it’s not that funny.” Grace was getting a little exasperated, but eventually she’d get the woman to listen. And boy would she be surprised to meet the dynamic duo in person.

Pixie laughed out loud too, and after she eventually got them both to stop, Grace arranged for the meeting at four that afternoon. That would give her plenty of time alone with David at his townhouse—to show him her decorating ideas, of course.

“Your meeting with Dr. Doris sounds intriguing,” Pixie said. “I’m getting interested in your Batman.”

“I like to think of him as Oscar’s alter ego,” Grace admitted with a shine in her voice. But she didn’t dare admit that he was starting to feel a lot like Batman for real.

Sophia rolled her eyes as it was, but Grace didn’t mind. She was too revved up with excitement.

“Let me know how it goes at Dr. Doris’s office. This police sidekick business is getting to be a thing with you,” Pixie said. “Now get off my desk so I can finish this sketch.”

“No problem. I’m on my way to see my new favorite client in the world and make his home fit for…” She thought “fit for his Bat-cave” but stopped herself from saying it.

Sophia looked up from her drawing board at the pause, with her brows raised and curious eyes.

“Fit for his future queen,” Grace dared instead to say out loud, and Pixie gave her a knowing shake of her red-haired bob. That was time for her exit—to the bat pole.

Parking would have been a problem if she weren’t intimately familiar with this Beacon Hill neighborhood. She decided to park at Mabel’s townhouse and walk the block and a half to David’s. She could stop in for a quick visit with her adopted aunt on her way out. She carried her proposal material on a small-wheeled cart over the cobblestone sidewalk. Arriving at the steps to David’s front door, she hauled the cart up and knocked. Her heart pounded.

She was a great catch, she told herself. He’d be crazy not to want to keep her. All the same, she was terrified of being rejected. She was much younger than he was, and that should be a good thing, but she had a feeling he wasn’t convinced of that. She’d allowed Sophia’s age comments to get to her. Her hands felt clammy as she stood there waiting for him to answer his door.

“Of course he felt the electricity too. He couldn’t possibly be immune to our connection,” she said out loud. That was when he opened the door and smiled at her, then looked around.

“Were you talking to someone?”

“Oh…yeah…on my cell phone,” she adlibbed and stepped into his home, passing close by him. She took a deep breath and smelled his clean crisp maleness. He was dressed in a white shirt and dark pants, but without the tie he’d had on that morning. She loved his look. She loved everything about him.

She walked to the center of the room and turned to look over the place again. Her heart gave that flutter. She took one more calming breath and told herself to decorate.

“What’s in the suitcase? Are you moving in?” He said the words not unpleasantly, and inwardly she scoffed at the flash of hope in her quickened pulse. She laughed and felt the nervousness fade to a glow of well-being.

“Not today. This is my decorating proposal for you,” she said. Then she opened the top and took out her storyboard sketch of the rooms, followed by drapery and upholstery samples and then some paint samples and photos of lamps and accent rugs. She spread it all out on the floor since he had no table. She took him on a tour. He listened intensely and watched her move.

“I’m impressed. I can actually see it—just as you’ve drawn it.” He picked up the storyboard sketch, held it out in front of him and examined it. “I should frame this and hang it in the hall as a directory for newcomers. Knowing me, there’ll be a steady stream of new people constantly popping by,” he said.

He looked at her and chuckled and then she realized he was kidding.

“Seriously, you are a tremendous artist as well as decorator. I will frame this and hang it on the wall.”

“You’re so kind to flatter me, but all decorators are artists. We all have to be able to illustrate our designs for our clients.” The warmth from his compliment did not diminish.

“I don’t care about the others. You are my extremely talented decorator and”—he paused—“I’m lucky to have you.” He was serious now.

She stepped closer to him to take the board and lean it against the wall. He stood close to her, seemingly too close in the giant empty room. She felt the buzz of electricity heighten to a near unbearable surge of excitement.

He reached out and took her hand in his and was about to speak when her cell phone rang. He immediately dropped her hand with a resigned smile and gestured for her to answer it. She felt the surge waver, but she had time, she told herself as she fished her cell phone out of her bag and tapped it on.

“Mabel, hello. How are you?” She saw David’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise—and something else that looked like apprehension.

“Is the rumor I heard true?” Mabel asked loudly enough for David to hear. That was fine with Grace. They may as well both enjoy the spitfire personality of the older woman.

“Which rumor would that be? I’ve heard a million of them, and they all involve you,” she teased.

“Not those rumors—don’t believe any of them. They’re being spread by jealous family members. No, I mean the one about you and my nephew, David Young,” Mabel said.

Grace dropped her jaw and the phone at the same time. She was looking straight at David as he grinned when he heard Mabel’s words. He shrugged and picked up her phone.

“May I?” he gestured to the phone and she nodded. She was unsure what to make of this. It was probably no big deal. Right? Her aunt Mabel was David’s real aunt?

“Hello, Aunt Mabel,” David said into the phone. He then immediately removed it from his ear and Grace could hear the very loud, cackling laughter of the old woman. She tapped the pointed toe of her alligator skin boot on the hardwood floor so the sound echoed in the empty room. It made her smile when David raised his brow again. He coughed into the phone and they watched each other as he attempted to continue his conversation with his Auntie Mabel.

“You’ve had your laugh, now tell me what this is all about,” he said. Grace listened along with David.

“I saw you at the Scotland Yard soiree with my girl Grace, young man. But I didn’t expect to find you together today.”

“You’ll be thrilled to know that I’ve hired Grace to decorate my townhouse. Why did you call Grace just now, Aunt?” His voice was steady, his eyes on Grace equally so. In fact, if he kept on looking at her that way she was going to heat up and then who knew what she would do.

“I was going to ask her what she thought of you, but I’d rather ask if you have romantic intentions for my girl. Do you?” Mabel’s voice had sudden authority. All the laughter and lightheartedness had disappeared. Grace was shocked. She’d never heard this side of Mabel and she couldn’t help being impressed—and a tad intimidated.

“Aren’t I a little ‘seasoned’ for you to be questioning me—with all due respect,” David said.

He had that same authoritative tone of voice. Grace barely had the presence of mind not to fall back into a chair—which was a good thing since there was no chair to be had.

“That’s exactly the point, my boy. You are far too seasoned for my Grace. And I’m still older and wiser. She deserves some fresh young buck to sweep her up. You’d break your back if you tried sweeping her off her feet. Besides, I know you’ve been playing the man about town with all sorts of women, and my Grace is not like that. She’s not to be trifled with. She’s a gem—”