Frankie's Back in Town (15 page)

“Francesca,” Jack said in a voice that told her he had absolutely no intention of playing by her rules. “Just because I’m under your spell doesn’t mean I won’t do my job. Please, trust me. I’ll talk with my men, but the best way to stop the gossip in this fishbowl of a town will be to solve this case.”

Then he laughed softly, a sound that filtered through her like the warmth from the fire. “For the record, I respect how you feel about your family. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try and convince you to make room for me on your plate.”

Francesca knew right then and there that she was in trouble. Deep, deep trouble.

J
ACK OPENED THE CAR DOOR
then extended his hand to Frankie. She slipped her cool fingers within his, and he savored the contact, enjoyed the show as she emerged in a jaw-dropping display of long sleek legs. She looked so much better this morning after a night of rest.

He, on the other hand, had barely slept. He’d been too focused on figuring out what he wanted from this woman and how he was going to convince her to give him what he wanted.

A chance.

“Harvey said he’ll be working on that furnace all day,” Jack said. “With any luck he’ll be able to find the right parts, and you can go home to a warm house tonight.”

Her hand lingered in his for a moment before she lifted her gaze to his. “Thank you so much for all your help, Jack.”

“My pleasure. I mean that.”

Her gray eyes, usually so expressive, were guarded this morning, so careful not to reveal anything that might encourage him in his pursuit of her. “I hope you can salvage something of your day.”

He glanced at his watch. “It’s still early. Got the whole day ahead of me.”

She smiled at that. “I’m glad. I know you’ve got a lot of work to clear your suspects.”

“Wish me luck.”

“You know I do.”

He had to resist the urge to stroke a stray curl from her cheek. Instead, he slipped a hand under her elbow and motioned toward the front doors. “I’ll see you upstairs.”

To his surprise, she didn’t argue, just walked along at his side, unbuttoning her peacoat as they headed inside the lobby.

“Good morning, June,” she said to the woman behind the receptionist desk.

“Good morning, Ms. Raffa. Glad you’re okay.”

“Right as rain. Today’s a new day, and as far as I’m concerned yesterday never happened.”

June laughed. “Good luck with that. I’ve already had a half-dozen residents show up wanting to know where to send the cards and flowers.”

“How thoughtful.” Frankie ground out the words from between gritted teeth.

Jack laughed. Then they were on their way to the fourth floor, where they found Etta waiting for them in the hallway outside her door when they emerged from the elevator.

“Dolly, how do you feel?”

Frankie hurried forward and kissed her grandmother’s cheek. “Perfectly perfect as you can see. Now that I’m someplace with working heat. Who knew how cold that big house could get?”

“I could have told you that.” Etta stepped inside her apartment. “The repairman may have trouble fixing the furnace, though. Your grandfather put it in such a long time ago.”

“Hello again, Etta,” Jack said, following Frankie into the small foyer. “I called Harvey Stockton. He said it might take some doing, but he thought he could get it working again.”

“You are a good boy, Jack. Thank you for taking such good care of my granddaughter.”

“The pleasure was all mine.”

Etta gazed at him with sparkling eyes. “Did you get your socks back?”

He chuckled. “I did.”

Frankie rolled her eyes and stepped into the living room, shrugging off her coat. “Is Gabrielle still asleep? Oh, there you are, pup.”

Then she strode toward the bedroom, where a young girl, tall and slim like her mother and a few inches taller, stood in the doorway.

“My poor puppy,” Frankie said, stroking her hair. “I abandoned you yesterday. I’m so sorry.”

Gabrielle was a beautiful girl, with the same expressive features as her mother. Jack thought she looked relieved when she hugged Frankie with no hint of self-consciousness. With her cheek resting on her mother’s shoulder, she eyed him curiously.

“Gabrielle, this is Chief Sloan,” Etta said. “The one I told you about. Remember?”

“I remember, Nonna. The bachelor,” Gabrielle said, deadpan.

That got a response from Frankie, who disentangled herself from her daughter’s arms with a frown. “Knock it off, you two.” She met his gaze. “Jack, my daughter, Gabrielle.”

Jack was too busy trying not to smile. He was glad to know he had at least one member of this family in his corner, because admittedly, he didn’t have much experience with teenagers. Except for the delinquent variety. So he chose a straightforward approach, crossing the distance and extending his hand.

“Pleased to meet you, Gabrielle. Your mother has told me a lot about you. All good.”

She took his stock in a glance, her expression noncom
mittal, but Jack was a cop at heart and knew she didn’t miss a thing about him. She was reserving her opinion.

“
All
good?”

Jack inclined his head.

Gabrielle just smiled.

And Jack realized right then that not only did he have to convince the mom to take a chance on him, but her daughter, too.

Apparently, Etta already knew that because she popped her head through the cutaway leading into a tiny kitchen and asked, “Jack, you’ll stay for coffee, won’t you?”

“Yes, Etta,” he said with enthusiasm. “I’d love to.”

S
USANNA TOPPED OFF HER MUG
with the last of the coffee then automatically went to rinse the carafe. Unfortunately, there was no getting in the sink. Not with last night’s dinner dishes piled high.

“Brooke, damn it.” Couldn’t her daughter have loaded the dishwasher? Was that really so hard to do?

Wait a sec…today was Saturday, which meant yesterday was Friday.
Her
day for the dishes. Except that she hadn’t left work until late after Frankie’s escapades. Come on, who traipsed around the property after a snowstorm? She was lucky she didn’t fall down the mountain and break her neck.

By the time Susanna had left the lodge, she’d had to go straight to the school to pick up Brandon from practice, which meant she hadn’t cooked dinner until after they’d gotten home. That full sink of dishes hadn’t even computed in her tired brain. After dinner, she’d curled into a ball on the couch with a blanket and pillow and subjected herself to the tail end of some completely forgettable made-for-television movie.

If you’d have been here, Skip, you’d have rescued me from these dishes. My knight in shining armor.

Okay. So she’d bump last night’s dinner dishes into the first slot on today’s to-do list. Not a tragedy. Setting down the carafe, she sipped her coffee and waited for the caffeine to kick in, not hopeful as this was already her fourth cup.

“Mom.” Brooke sailed into the kitchen with purpose.

“Yes, dear?”

“I want to go to a show tonight. That okay with you? I’m giving you plenty of notice since I know how much you hate last-minute plans.”

Brooke was being cooperative? The hairs on the back of Susanna’s neck stood on end. “What kind of show? And where?”

“Transitions. It’s a venue in Saugerties.”

“What’s a venue?”

Brooke rolled her eyes and started digging through the pantry, presumably for breakfast. “A place that has shows.”

“I shopped on Thursday. There’s oatmeal, cereal and bagels. Or if you want, you can make eggs.”

Each suggestion earned a disgusted grimace. “No Pop-Tarts?”

“Ah, real food, please.”

Another grimace.

“Okay, no eggs then.” Susanna wasn’t at all surprised, but talking about breakfast bought her some time to collect her thoughts about this proposition.

Brooke still wore her pajamas, sweatlike pants made out of some clingy fabric and a muscle shirt that left too much of her tummy bare. And she was barefoot on the tile floor.

“Aren’t you cold?” Susanna asked.

“No.” Brooke quit the pantry and moved on to the refrigerator.

“Okay, so a venue is a place that has shows,” Susanna said. “What kind of shows?”

“Bands.”

“You want to go see a band?”

Susanna must have sounded as surprised as she felt because Brooke wheeled around from the refrigerator, armed with a bag of bagels and tub of cream cheese, ready for battle.

“Yes, a band, Mom. My friends are playing.”

“You have friends in a band.”

Brooke didn’t even dignify that with a reply as she deposited her breakfast on the baker’s rack beside the toaster and rummaged through the silverware drawer.

“What friends?”

“Justin’s in Frantica. Matt and Ethan are in Tranz PM.”

“So more than one band is playing.”

“Yeah. Four or five, I think.”

“Any girls going to this show?”

Brooke sawed apart a bagel, not seeming to notice the crumbs sprinkling onto the floor. “Mmm-hmm. Tyler’ll be there, and Kaley, too.”

Kaley was a longtime friend, so no problem there. Susanna hadn’t ever actually met Tyler, but knew from Brooke that Tyler dated Matt. Both were sophomores, if memory served. “Anyone going to be there with a car?”

“I don’t know. But I won’t get in anyone’s car if that’s what you’re asking.”

It was. At this age, these kids were a terrifying mix of those who could drive and those who couldn’t. At fifteen, Brooke wasn’t going to be driving in anyone’s car. “That was the right answer. So who hangs out at this kind of venue?”

“Kids, Mom. It’s by the skate park.”

“You mean a teen club?”

“A
venue.
It costs seven bucks to get in, but they don’t serve alcohol or anything. So you don’t have to worry.”

Oh, Susanna was worried all right. “Let me get this
straight. You want to go clubbing tonight in Saugerties to see your friends play in a band?”

“It’s not clubbing,” Brooke insisted. “I told you there’s no alcohol.”

Inside the club, maybe. But it was clubbing all the same, which meant Brooke would be primed and ready for the bars as soon as she could legally drink.

Susanna stifled the impulse to laugh and say, “No way.” No, she was going to handle this rationally no matter how much it hurt. That was the only way she could expect Brooke to communicate rationally. “I appreciate the advance notice, so let me give it some thought. Why don’t you get me some more information about this…venue.”
Club.

“What kind of information?”

Setting her mug on the counter, Susanna reached into the cabinet for a plate before Brooke took out any more of the floor with her mess. “Surely they have a Web site or a MySpace page?”

Brooke nodded.

“That’ll be good enough. E-mail me the URL and I’ll go check it out as soon as I finish cleaning up in here.”

“Will do.” Brooke withdrew the bagel from the toaster and placed it on the plate. Then she sauntered off to the table with the tub of cream cheese. That was it. No argument.

Susanna almost smiled. Rational had won the moment and they hadn’t degenerated into an argument that invariably would wind up with Brooke accusing Susanna of treating her like a child.

Unless, of course, Susanna discovered this
venue
was inappropriate for a fifteen-year-old, in which case the argument would start as soon as Brooke was told she wouldn’t be going.

But Susanna wasn’t going to borrow trouble. She’d savor the triumph of the moment—

“Aunt Karan’s here,” Brandon yelled from the living room.

Glancing out the window above the sink, Susanna did a double take as the low-slung Jaguar wheeled to a sharp stop in her driveway. Glancing at the clock above the baker’s rack, she wiped her hands on the dish towel and started for the door.

For Karan to get up and out before noon on a Saturday…Susanna pulled open the door to find Karan already out of the car and heading up the walkway with long, graceful strides.

“What on earth is going on?” Susanna asked.

One look at Karan’s expression answered several questions instantly. Karan was positively in a state. Her bright blue eyes were flashing, and her well-maintained mouth was compressed into a tight line that would have had her plastic surgeon scowling.

“You are simply not going to believe it,” she said, sweeping past Susanna.

Susanna shut the door and would have offered to take Karan’s coat, but she was already slipping the fur-lined wool off her shoulders and tossing it onto the antique bench.

“Let’s go into the sunroom, where we can talk.” Susanna inclined her head toward the living room where Brandon was on the floor in front of the couch, hands clutching the remote controller to his video game.

“Hey, kiddo,” Karan called out, and Susanna was pleased when he glanced away from his game long enough to smile.

“Hey, Aunt Karan.”

Any further interaction was cut off when Brooke sailed
into the room and let out a squeal, before launching herself at Karan for an enthusiastic greeting, complete with air kisses.

“Aunt Karan!”

“Hello, gorgeous.” Karan was momentarily distracted from the drama at hand. “Look at you. Mom can’t keep those boys away, I’ll bet. You remember what I told you?”

“Only the rich handsome ones who have their eyes on the future,” Brooke quoted.

“Good girl.”

There was no mystery why Brooke was so enamored with Karan. What young girl wouldn’t be fascinated by a beautiful woman who wore wealth and style as comfortably as Susanna wore Skip’s old flannel robe? She was tall, blonde and always dressed impeccably, whether bundled up against the snow, on her way to a show in the city or heading to the club for a kickboxing class.

She was the one who brought extravagant gifts—Broadway show tickets for Brooke’s birthday and an autographed baseball for Brandon at Christmas.

Aunt Karan was like the gorgeous Fairy Godmother.

“Convince Mom to let me go to a show tonight, will you, please?” Brooke begged.

Karan wrapped an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “See what I can do. A girl’s got to have a social life.”

“Don’t shoot yourself in the foot, young lady.” Susanna ended the debate before it began. “I said I’d think about it.”

“Oh, let her go, Suze,” Karan said with a wink at Brooke. “She’s got to get out into the world and be seasoned. Or else how is she going to attract all those rich handsome men with their eyes on the future?”

Susanna simply smiled in reply then shooed Brooke away. “Go get that information for me. I’m sure Aunt Karan didn’t drop by this early to run interference for you.”

After another enthusiastic hug, Brooke headed into the kitchen while Susanna led Karan out to the sunroom where they could talk in private.