Finders Keepers Losers Die (17 page)

"What are you doing?" Nice deflection from
making the promise, Mom.

I told her how I'd been spurred on to find
Roberta's jewelry because I wanted to become a P.I. and because of
Dad's hunch about Scarletti. I even told her about my earlier
epiphany. I figured mothers like to hear that their children have
found answers without paying for therapy.

"Your dad would be surprised," was all she
said.

"That I want to be a P.I. like him? Yeah. I
guess. He thought I was a loser."

"No, he didn't. Cat." She took my hands in
hers and made me look at her. "Your father did not think you were a
loser. Headstrong, independent, stubborn, frustrating—"

"Okay, I get the picture."

"But not hopeless. Never that. He just
didn't know how to handle you, so he tried to control you. And that
pushed you away. A long way away." She pulled me closer, hugging
me. "He'd be so proud you want to be a P.I. But," she looked me in
the eye, "he'd be petrified knowing you were dealing with dangerous
people."

"I have to do this, Mom. You know why. You
get it, don't you?"

She nodded. "I do. And I'm not your father
so I won't try to talk you out of it. Besides, you've got Will to
back you up and I know he wouldn't let anything happen to you."

Maybe it wasn't the best time to tell her
Will didn't know.

"Just be careful," she said.

"Thanks Mom. For thinking I can do
this."

We hugged again then she left me alone so I
could call the arson squad. I answered their routine questions and
hung up, glad it was over and that Mom knew everything. In a way,
it surprised me that she was okay with me continuing. Even
encouraged me. Especially when she admitted Dad wouldn't be happy
with my involvement with Scarletti. Once upon a time she would have
agreed with him. Her opinions had been suppressed for years by
Dad's over-bearing ones, so it was good to see her finally making
up her own mind.

She entered the kitchen with a spring in her
step holding a bunch of green leaves that looked like weeds which
she put in a pot on the stove. "So, tell me about this man of
yours," she said.

Damn, she'd caught me unprepared. I was too
busy thinking about the fire, Grimes and Mad Max to have any room
left over for sex and Will.

"It's too soon in the relationship to talk
about him," I said. "I don't want to jinx it."

She looked disappointed but she didn't push
me. It seemed I'd successfully maneuvered myself out of more
wedding talk.

We ate dinner, played a few rounds of poker
then I returned to Gina's. She sat on the sofa reading a thin
romance novel and smiled when I came in.

"Let's talk more about our men," she said,
putting the book down.

I grinned, relieved she didn't want to
discuss the afternoon's escapades or my job. "I'll get the bottle
of wine. You get the glasses. If we're going to do this, let's do
it properly." Alcohol has a way of extracting all the juicy
details. I don't know why the CIA doesn't use it.

***

I woke up the next morning in a tin boat in
the middle of the ocean. At least that's what it felt like. My
stomach rose and fell, and the light dangling from the ceiling
swayed above me. Even my body rocked back and forth.

Gina's face came into focus. "Wake up, Cat."
She shook my shoulder.

"What time is it?" I rubbed my eyes in the
hope that the room would stop swimming.

"Seven-thirty."

"In the morning?"

She flung open the curtains. "Come on, time
to get up if you want to be at work on time."

"I don't start until nine. That's a whole…"
I tried to work it out but thinking only made my head hurt
more.

"Hour and a half away," she finished. "Yes,
but it takes you forever to get ready."

I grunted and pulled the blanket over my
eyes.

I must have fallen back to sleep because the
next time I saw Gina she was dressed and made up.

"I can't wait for you, Cat. You'll have to
drive yourself in."

"What time is it?"

"Eight-twenty."

I swore and sprang off the couch, still
dressed in the previous day's clothes. "Why didn't you wake me
earlier?"

I had my back to her but I swear I could
hear
her eyes rolling. "See you later," she called out as I
raced to the bathroom. "I want to know how
everything
goes
today."

I showered in record time and dressed in an
understated black pant suit with white shirt. I'd wanted to get to
work early to start things off on the right foot between Will and
me. I mean, if I wanted to have more hot sex with him, it was in my
interests to stay on his good side. And the more I thought about
it, the more I wanted the hot sex again.

But it was nearly half past nine when I
arrived and he was sitting at my desk, stabbing the keyboard with
two fingers. He didn't look up. Strands of hair hung over his eyes
and I really wanted to brush them aside.

"Morning," I said chirpily. "Sorry, I'm
late. I would have got here half an hour ago but there was an
accident—"

"Save it," he growled.

Not a good start. "Something wrong with my
computer?" Damn it, I was determined to get a civil word out of
him.

"Yeah, you're not using it." He raised his
eyes to me but kept his head lowered so the whole effect was
devilish. If he'd added a come-hither smile, I'd have given him a
lap dance in a heartbeat.

But he didn't, so obviously humping the boss
hadn't improved my status around the office.

I moved behind him and glanced over his
shoulder at the screen. He was scrolling through records in our
client database. "If the computers were networked, you could look
up the database from your own PC. You wouldn't have to walk all the
way down here."

"If you got to work on time, I wouldn't have
to walk all the way down here, I could call."

Or yell. That's what he usually did. "Gina's
a lousy alarm clock, all right?" I sounded snappy but hey, I
expected something a little friendlier from the guy I just
bonked.

"Now that you're here, I need a print out of
the work we did last month for Waterstone," he said.

"Sure. It'll take two seconds."

"Really?" He looked surprised. "I must have
been looking in the wrong section."

I shooed him out of the way and took over
the mouse. Three clicks later and the report printed out. "So why
does he want this information?"

"He's contesting last month's bill."

"What? Why? You spent a lot of time with him
last month because that's what he wanted. Are you telling me he
doesn't want to pay for it now?"

"That's what I'm telling you."

I shook my head in disbelief. "I told you,
Waterstone is more trouble than he's worth. Surely there's other
cases we could take on." Maybe I should tell him I planned to keep
Roberta as a client. If he didn't want Knight Investigations to
take her case, then I could do it in my spare time. I'd do it
during company time behind his back, but I wanted to give him the
chance to accept it first. "If you take—"

"We'll talk work later," he said. "In my
office." Then he winked. I almost fell over in shock. He still sat
in my swivel chair, his back to Carl's office. I assumed Carl was
inside but so far there'd been no sign of him.

"Right," I said, not sure what to make of
his playful wink. Will's sudden mood swings were harder to predict
than mine during that time of the month. "Well, here's the
report."

"Not now," he whispered.

"But it's ready now," I whispered back.

"Bring it to my office in a few minutes."
Another wink. Okay, so he wanted a bit of hanky panky on his desk.
Cool.

"Sure thing, Boss."

He disappeared into his office and Carl
emerged from his. "Hey, Cat. You in trouble again?"

"Kinda, but I think I got out of it this
time." I waved the report. "It helps to be the only one who can
handle the dinosaur database."

He nodded but didn't look interested. "So
how's your case coming along? Will told me your apartment burned
down and that he felt sorry for you so he gave you your job
back."

So my re-employment had been a pity
offering. Worked for me.

"You okay?" he asked.

I nodded. "A bit freaked out but otherwise
unscathed."

"Do you think the fire had anything to do
with Roberta's jewelry?"

"I have no idea why my apartment is now
decorated in the shade of ash. It's possibly linked to whoever
followed me around on Saturday."

"Followed you? To where? Jeez, Cat, this is
getting serious."

I shrugged but didn't feel so confident on
the inside.

"So did you find the jewelry?"

I hadn't even told Roberta so I felt like I
couldn't tell Carl. Besides, he would most likely blab to Will if
he asked in the right way, which went something along the lines of
"Tell me what Cat's up to or you're fired." Not that I blamed Carl.
He just couldn't lie like a professional.

I waved the report at him. "The boss wants
this ASAP." I practically skipped up the hallway and entered Will's
office without knocking, something I never did when the door was
closed. "Special delivery," I sang.

His boyish grin made up for the grumpy
welcome earlier. "Close the door." I did. "And bring that gorgeous
ass over here."

I threw the report on his desk and straddled
him where he sat. The chair swiveled to the side under the extra
weight but held. Will rubbed his palms up my thighs to my butt and
breathed deeply.

"You smell good," he said. "Not as
smoky."

We kissed and I swear the heat in his office
rose a couple degrees. I started to undo my shirt to cool down.
Will helped. Hurriedly.

He drew his arm down in an arc to clear his
desk but before he could send stationary flying, his office door
opened. I leapt up, bumped my knee and fell to the floor. Will took
my hand and pulled me up so fast I almost propelled straight past
him.

Regaining my equilibrium, I looked up at
Will and waited for him to make excuses. But he just eyeballed me,
then looked down at my shirt. He did it several times until I
realized it was still undone. I quickly did up the buttons then
swung into action.

"Hey, Carl, what's happening?" I cringed on
the inside. I sounded like an amateur.

Carl stood by the door, his big blue eyes as
wide as dishes. "What's going on?"

"Um," Will said. "Well… Ah…" Good grief. He
couldn't lie his way out of jury duty.

"Nothing," I said. "We were just looking
over Waterstone's bill." I grabbed the nearest set of papers from
Will's desk and waved them at Carl. "Can you remember how many
hours you worked on his account last month?"

"I'll get my timesheet." Carl left and Will
and I breathed a collective sigh.

"That was too close," he said. "No more sex
in the office."

"Damn. I didn't even get to do it once. What
about kissing?"

"No. No kissing, canoodling, cuddling or
groping. Unless we're alone and you bend over in front of me
again."

I thumped him lightly on the shoulder. "So I
take it we don't want Carl to know about…" I didn't want to say
"us". It felt too intimate, like we were a couple. We both knew we
weren't at that phase yet.

He nodded. "It would make working around
here awkward. I don't want him to feel like the odd one out."

"I am
not
having a threesome with
Carl just so he feels like he belongs."

Will laughed and kissed me lightly on the
top of my head. I decided it wasn't a good time to discuss why he'd
lied about being with Tanya on Saturday night. I guess technically
it was none of my business, but I still planned on extracting a
confession. A girl needs to know if she has a rival.

I left and passed Carl in the hallway,
carrying his timesheets. I settled into my chair and considered my
predicament. Not my sexual predicament, which I was kind of
enjoying. I mean, sneaking around could be fun. No, I was thinking
about my professional predicament. I wanted to keep Roberta as a
client, but more importantly, I wanted her to be
my
client.
If only I could find a way to break the news to Will.

Or, even better, not break the news and keep
investigating without his knowledge.

The front door opened and I looked up at the
tall man sauntering through. Christ. As if my day wasn't weird
enough.

"What are you doing here?"

CHAPTER 10

Scarface's lopsided grin sent my heart
flip-flopping. Christ, what was going on with my hormones lately?
Alarmed by my reaction, I shooed him outside before anyone saw
him.

"I've gotta go see Gina for a minute," I
called out to Will and Carl before closing the door. I hustled
Scarface across the road to Trendz Cafe. We sat at the back, away
from the window.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him.

"You don't have to whisper, Cat. He can't
hear you."

His know-it-all grin irritated the shit out
of me but at the same time turned me on. How is that even
possible?

"So why did you want me out of there so
fast?" he asked. I got the feeling he knew the answer and was
deliberately avoiding my question.

"Last time you and Will met I had to duck
for cover. I didn't want to do that again until I at least know
why."

"So it's not because I got you into trouble
with your boss?"

"I'm not in trouble with Will." Not right
this second, anyway. "So, are you going to answer my question? What
are you doing here?"

He sat very still and looked at me with his
one good eye. I was close enough to really look at his scar. It had
freaked me out at first, but it didn't seem so gruesome anymore. It
must have been painful when it had happened, and losing sight in
the eye would have been life shattering. But to me, it was just a
part of Scarface. Actually the scar suited him. It gave him that
mysterious and sinister quality directors look for when casting bad
guys in action movies. I always preferred the bad guys.