High Energy (16 page)

"I have satellite. I hear there's a monsterthon on Channel 132 today." He raised

and lowered his eyebrows as if to say, how could you not?

"You have satellite? I never noticed a dish."

"I didn't say which satellite, did I?" Her mouth gaped. "Here's the remote. By

the way, I called your office and told them you wouldn't be in for a few days."

"Tyber! I was going to go in later! You shouldn't have—" She broke off,

coughing.

"Uh-huh. I'm going down to do some work in the lab; if you need anything,

Blooey's in the kitchen. Don't forget that oatmeal."

As soon as he was gone, Zanita looked at the cat. The cat looked at her. And the

oatmeal was history.

"Prepare yourself." Tyber strode purposefully into the room a few hours later to

glare down at her from the foot of the bed.

"What is it—more oatmeal?"

"No. I don't think Hambone is up to anymore just yet. He's still trying to

digest the last batch."

She didn't quite meet his eyes. "How did you know?"

"He's lying in the sun like a snake that just swallowed a gopher. Besides that,

he had oatmeal all over his whiskers. Blooey had to chase him all over the house

with a wet rag to clean it off him."

"So that's what all that racket was. Then if it's not oatmeal, what is it?"

"Grandfather Hank just called and he's hopping mad. He wants to know who I am

and what the hell I'm doing with you." He leveled a searing look at her.

"Oh," she said in a small voice.

"You didn't tell him you were moving in here, did you?"

She winced. "No."

He leaned over the bed, trapping her between his arms, which came down on

either-side of her. His voice was deceptively calm. "What did you think would

happen when he could not reach you at home?"

She gulped. "That wouldn't have happened."

He pinned her to the pillow with a look. "I'm waiting."

"Call forwarding," she said in a small voice.

He just stared at her, a little muscle ticking in his jaw.

"You—you don't understand. You just don't tell Hank stuff like this. He's—he's

like from another century. And since this is only a temporary situation, why

upset the old guy?"

"The old guy is on his way here even as we speak."

Her eyes widened. She clutched his hand off the mattress. "Tyber, don't let him

take me to my grandmother! She's a Valkyrie with sick people."

"You're not going anywhere. I'll deal with Hank, but I think it was very

irresponsible of you to worry him like this."

"Irresponsible! He wouldn't have known anything about it if you hadn't taken it

upon yourself to call my office. And did you have to tell them who you were?"

He threw her a seething look and exited the room.

She never knew what Tyber said to her grandfather, but by the time Hank entered

her room, he was all smiles and solicitousness. He inquired after her health,

petted the cat, admired the house, spoke highly of Tyber, and told her to call

her grandmother when she felt up to it. Then he insisted that she take the week

off.

She watched her grandfather leave with an odd, sinking feeling in her chest.

Hank, who had gone through wars, seen presidents murdered, and was once almost

shot by a gangster, had unwittingly been Tybercised.

Zanita sighed philosophically. She would have to watch the captain like a hawk

from now on. He was definitely starting to act like a boyfriend.

Tyber stood at the foot of his once-pristine shell bed watching Zanita sleep

while propped up against four pillows.

The bed was littered with empty candy wrappers, various magazines, paperback

books, tissues, cracker crumbs, a writing tablet, and Hambone. A half-eaten Oreo

cookie floated in the aquarium next to the bed. His extremely rare, extremely

expensive tropical fish were in the process of committing suicide by nibbling on

it.

Theme music from a 1950s science fiction movie blared from the television set,

signifying the approach of the beast from the planet Gilgamesh.

This is one definition of Chaos, he thought, smiling fondly down at her.

He got a net to retrieve the cookie before the fish did serious damage to

themselves. Only Zanita would wonder if fish might like to share a chocolate

cookie with her.

"Hmm? Oh, Tyber, it you…" She sleepily opened her eyes.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes, much better." She took his hand, bringing it to her cheek. "Tyber, you've

been so sweet."

"I have, haven't I?" He kissed her forehead before sitting on the bed next to

her to watch the monster being electrocuted by the high tension wires. He

chuckled. "Gets 'em every time."

"Hey, look at this—I almost finished The New York Times crossword puzzle. If I

only knew the name of a three dimensional rectangular cube in twenty-seven

letters…" She looked at him expectantly.

"A rectangular parallelepipedon," he supplied dryly.

"That's right! It fits!" Zanita had a great idea. "You know, you should go on

Jeopardy."

"You're still feverish, aren't you?"

"No, I'm serious. We could make a bundle."

"We?" He arched a brow at her.

She sat up on her knees, putting her arms around his neck. "You have such a

gorgeous… mind."

His arm came around her waist to secure her. "You are feeling better." He gazed

down at her through half-closed eyes.

"Mmm, much." She rubbed his nose with her own.

"I have something for you," he drawled, low and sexy.

Her eyes flashed at him in a come-hither way. "What?" She whispered seductively.

"This." He handed her a sheaf of papers from behind his back.

"Oh." She glanced down at the papers, then back up at him. "Oh. Where on Earth

did you get this?" It was a complete dossier on one Xavier LaLeche.

"You might say a friend of mine gave it to me."

"Tyber, these look like… are these F.B.I, files?"

He looked affronted. "Zanita! That would be illegal. I'd never do anything

illegal."

The next day, three dark sedans rolled down the driveway and came to a stop in

front of the house. Six men in suits came out of them. They all had identical

"don't screw around with me" faces.

Tyber went out on the porch to greet them. Zanita warily hung back behind him,

peering around his shoulder to see what was going to happen.

One man, obviously the one in charge, stepped forward and pointed an accusing

finger at Tyber. "You son of a bitch!"

Tyber did not seemed fazed in the least. "Hello, Sean."

The irritated man turned to his men, barking out a command. "Don't huddle

around—fan out!"

Tyber leaned against the porch balustrade, arms crossed. He immediately

countermanded the order. "No, don't fan out."

The man named Sean glanced at Zanita, then spoke to Tyber. "Let's go for a walk,

shall we?"

"Be right back, baby."

Zanita apprehensively watched them walk down the footpath to one of the far

gardens. Then she turned her eyes to the other "visitors." Five double-barreled

sets of steely eyes had her directly in their sights. She smiled rather sickly

at them.

"I'll just stay right here," she offered magnanimously.

"Dammit, Tyber; you did it again!"

"You know what I told you."

"Yeah, if you could do it, someone else could. But I'm not so sure I buy that

anymore. There's no one quite like you." Sean ran a hand distractedly through

his short hair, causing it to spike.

"Don't delude yourself."

"All right," he grumbled. "We'll go over the system again. But dammit, Tyber,

it's embarrassing! Your little breach occurred at a most inopportune time."

"Visiting dignitary and you just had to break away from the function when they

called you?"

Sean flushed. "Not quite."

Tyber nodded sagely. "Ah, different type of function."

Sean rubbed his jaw. "Yeah. Say, who's the dish with the terrific gams?" He

raised his hands. "Wait, don't tell me— she's some egghead from one of your

highbrow institutions and you're diligently working together in your sterile

laboratory for the good of all."

Tyber stared at him, not responding.

Sean scratched his ear. "Well, I suppose in some odd way, I should thank you for

that little stunt."

"You're welcome."

"That grin is nothing less than evil. And I more than suspect you didn't have

just the Department's best interests at heart. Especially by what was taken." He

looked at Tyber sharply. "What are you doing, Tyber?"

Tyber put his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. "I couldn't say."

"Yeah. Right."

They walked back to the front porch.

"Let's go," Sean said to his men. "Good day, Ms. Masterson." He opened his car

door, saying to Tyber, "I'll be in touch."

Tyber gave him a sharklike grin. "Not if I am first."

The man's eyes widened. "Christ," he muttered, slamming the door shut. They

exited in the same formation they had entered.

"How did he know my name? Did you tell him my name?"

"No. Want to go get some lunch, baby?" He put his arm around her shoulders,

steering her back into the house.

"But Tyber—"

"Mmmm, smells good—squash casserole."

"Oh, no! Blooey told me he was making a chef salad for lunch."

"Smells like squash casserole to me."

"Gripes! Ah… you know, I just remembered something I need to get at the store.

I'll be back before dinner—"

He grabbed her by her shirt collar. "Oh, no you don't."

"You're taking the motorcycle?"

"To Vermont? Are you kidding, baby?"

"It won't fall off there, will it?" Zanita watched Tyber secure the bike to the

bed of the pick-up.

He chuckled. "No. I would've liked for us to ride up in it, but with you just

getting over that flu, I don't think it's a good idea."

Thank God. Zanita was not overly fond of motorcycles. The idea of riding on the

back of one for five hours in a brisk fall wind at seventy miles an hour with

bugs squashing into her teeth held little appeal.

Tyber opened the driver's side door, squeezing their suitcase into the well

behind the seats. Zanita had originally packed a carton. Tyber gave it one

disdainful look and dumped her stuff into his bag. When Zanita objected, he

simply stated, "I am not walking into the Marble Manor Inn carrying that

carton."

"Hpmh! Cartons make much more sense than suitcases. You just throw them away

when you're done."

"Zanita, you are an extremely strange woman. And I admire that in you. But I am

still not taking that carton." And that was that.

"It shouldn't take us more than five hours if we don't make too many pitstops."

He started the truck. "Did you bring the directions?"

"I didn't have too; I memorized them."

Tyber groaned. "Make that a seven-hour trip."

"That's not funny. You know, I don't think the paper's going to reimburse you

for staying at a place rich enough to be called the Marble Manor."

He viewed her obliquely. "I wasn't aware that I was on their payroll."

"You aren't. Well, at least not formally. I mean, you are helping me with this

story, and even though it wasn't exactly an assignment, once the article gets

published, the paper generally reimburses for out-of-pocket expenses. But not

unreasonable expenses, and this inn sounds very expensive."

The corners of his mouth crooked. Zanita would do anything to avoid the

appearance of having a relationship. He couldn't wait to see how she was going

to rationalize this. "Don't worry, the paper is off the hook."

"No, I couldn't do that! After all, we're working together. It's not fair for

you to—to—"

"Treat you?" he more than helpfully supplied.

"Um, yes. It's not that I don't—"

"Take you out for some really sumptuous dinners?"

"No, I don't think—"

"Ply you with fine wine over a candlelit table for two?"

"Candles? I mean, that wouldn't be—"

"Dine on cold raspberry soup and medallions of veal in cognac cream?"

"I… I'm not sure…."

"Make love to you in a hundred-and-twenty-year-old brass bed in front of a

fireplace in a room completely made of golden marble?"

"Well… maybe just this once."

"How about just this twice?" He threw her a wicked smile.

"Tyber!" She blushed.

"Or just this thrice?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "You're starting up again."

"Probably."

Tyber had elected to take back country roads instead of the highway so they

could enjoy the spectacular New England foliage at a leisurely pace.

His schedule of a five-hour trip was totally optimistic since they had already

stopped twice—once at a picturesque farm to buy a huge pumpkin to take back with

them for Halloween and another time at a roadside stand to buy a bushel of

apples and a zucchini bread.

"We have to leave room back there for a couple of jugs of maple syrup. I

promised Blooey we'd bring him back some."

Zanita kneeled on the seat to peer through the back window. "There's plenty of

room back there. We can even bring Hambone some Vermont mice."

"He'd love that."

Zanita reached down to her purse and withdrew the dossier on LaLeche.

Tyber glanced over and when he saw what she had in her hands, he briefly closed

his eyes. "Tell me you didn't bring that with you."