Killer Chameleon (14 page)

Tank slipped an arm around my shoulder and walked me inside. “I understand how you feel, Leigh, but how do you plan to stop her?”

“I don't know yet,” I admitted. “But I will. I've got to.”

9

“I HAVE A THEORY ABOUT WHO SHE MIGHT BE,”
I said later as we waited for Duck in the first-floor unit. I wanted him to see it first.

Tank had spent the last half hour reading me the riot act for not having waited for him. That was followed by a minor spat, Tina taking umbrage at the implication that she couldn't have offered as much support as he could have. I sat it out, accustomed to their short-lived squabbles. It was simply the way they related to each other.

I decided to end it. For all I knew, they'd forgotten I was there.

“Look, y'all, we don't have much time. I'd like to run my theory by you before Duck gets here.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Bet I know what you're thinking.” Tina eyed me with speculation. “It's probably the same idea I've been tossing around.”

“What?” Tank took our coats and draped them over the divan. We settled around the old dining room table. “Spill it.”

“One of the Duck's old girlfriends,” Tina said, elbow on the table, chin cupped in her hand. “Am I right?”

I nodded. “I suggested that to Duck and he didn't like it at all. But it's a definite possibility.”

Tank scrubbed one side of his nose and slouched in his chair. “I'm not sure about that. I've known the man a long time and he was never a player like a lot of guys. Popular with the ladies, sure, and never at a loss for a date. But I don't remember him getting serious about any of them, and the kind of dude he is, he'd have been right up front with them from the git-go.”

“Well, hell, Tankie,” Tina said, with a scowl, “that doesn't mean they didn't fall for him anyway. I know for a fact that Jennifer Cowley's nose was wide open for the Duck, right up to the time she married Ike. She wasn't the only one. This may be someone who went ass over teakettle over the Duck and wants to get back at the one he's ass over teakettle about.”

“‘Hell hath no fury' and all that,” Tank offered. “I guess it's possible. Wonder if there's anything to eat in those cabinets.” He got up and began to investigate.

Tina looked exasperated, then focused on me again. “So we're on the same page?”

“Evidently. Except wouldn't it make more sense for her to take out her revenge on Duck?”

“She did,” Tina said. “She messed up his honeymoon plans.”

“They were my honeymoon plans too,” I reminded her. “And it's me she's been stalking, so to speak. Well, one thing at a time. I'll let him concentrate on the house tonight and hit him with my theory about the old girlfriend again tomorrow.”

Tank found a box of Cheez-Its so old that Tina maintained she could have hatched and given birth to a couple of babies since its sell-by date. He nibbled on them, pronounced them edible, and began dispatching them one by one while we tried to list all the women Duck had dated over the years. By the time we heard his car turn into the driveway, we had dredged up sixteen names, some of whom I knew personally, but only one Tina thought resembled me. Her name rang no bells with me.

“Similar coloring and build,” she said. “You wouldn't pass for sisters but she does make me think of you. Wonder if that might have been the reason the Duck dated them in the first place. Stand-ins for you, know what I mean?”

I thought it was pretty farfetched, but face it, when it comes to men and how they think, anything's possible.

“Gimme that,” I whispered to Tina when I heard Duck pull under the house. She'd been doing the writing. She tore the sheet from her notepad and I stuffed it in a pocket, then ran out to the deck to wait for him.

“Duck? Up here,” I called, hearing his door slam. “The first floor, stairs on the right.”

He appeared and stood looking up at me. “What's with the labels on the parking spaces?”

“Come on up. You'll see.”

He climbed the steps, gaze riveted on my face, an amused smile on his. When he reached the landing, he wrapped his arms around me, and the next thing I knew I was being well and thoroughly smooched. I even forgot about the house, the list, and everything else for the moment. Man, that man can kiss!

He released me. “That's just to show you how much I miss you during the day.”

I went into complete meltdown inside. Why had it taken me so long to realize how much I loved Dillon Kennedy? Not that I regretted the days we'd spent as very close friends, but the nights could have been a hell of a lot more interesting.

“All right, babe, time for the tour. By the way, where's the Explorer?”

“In front of my grandparents',” I said, deciding not to ruin the mood by telling him about the tires. I'd also exacted a promise from Tank and Tina not to mention my encounter with the Honda, knowing Duck would blow his lid. Looping an arm through his, I led him toward the front. “Let's go in this way.”

There was a method to my madness. The moon had made an appearance, its beams gilding the tips of the whitecaps of the bay; otherwise it would have been invisible. Duck stopped at the railing overlooking the yard, gazed out across the water, then up and down the street. Between the Christmas candles, the glistening Chesapeake, and the incredible night sky, he had to be impressed.

“Quite a view,” he said, nodding approval. “Inside, babe. You're shivering.”

I slid open the center pane and separated the vertical blinds for him.

Neither Tank nor Tina had moved. “Hey, Duck,” they said in chorus, an idiotic grin lighting Tank's Mr. Clean visage. Talk about open hero worship.

“Hey, yourselves.” Duck strode to the table, leaned over, and pecked Tina on the cheek. “How are you feeling, little T.?”

“Middlin'. Isn't this the neatest place?”

“Don't know yet. Let's see.” Sliding his coat off, he turned in a circle, his eyes taking in everything as he pivoted.

I removed the coat from his hand and folded it over my arm, needing something to hold on to. “Look around. I'm thirsty.”

I finally draped his coat across a chair, found a tumbler, and drank two glasses of water while he circumnavigated the main room. He stopped to peer at all the antique reproductions and wall decorations, closely examined the kitchen, opening each and every cabinet, upper and lower, never saying a word. Tank and Tina remained at the table, displaying crossed fingers whenever Duck wasn't looking. As for me, my stomach had turned into a butterfly farm, and the poor things were drowning in all that water I'd had.

He peeked into the guest room, laughed uproariously after pulling the chain of the water closet, and spent an inordinate amount of time in the back hall before reappearing. “Nice,” he said, leaning against the wall. “Whoever built this meant it to last.”

“My great-uncle Roosevelt,” I said. “A half-great, actually. Turns out Great-granddad's eye wandered, at least once.”

“Happens in the best of families. Only thing is, why hide the staircase?”

“Huh?” Tank, Tina, and I in unison, of course.

“You didn't see it? Come back here.”

We followed him to the rear of the hall and into the utility room. Adjacent to the washer/dryer combination were ceiling-to-knee-high shelves. Tucked under one of the shelves in the adjoining wall was a semicircular metal plate with a hole. Duck stuck a finger in it and pulled. A pocket door slid onto darkness.

“This locks,” Duck said, “but you've got to know how. Hold on.” He groped the wall until he'd found a light switch. A narrow staircase, just as he'd indicated.

Flabbergasted, we followed him up. At the top was the door into the utility room of the upper unit.

“How'd you know about this?” I asked.

“I didn't. I just wondered why all but one shelf had one-by-three anchors. I looked to see what was holding it up and spotted the faceplate on the lock. Jensen's got a lock like that on the door of his gun closet.”

“I'll be damned,” Tank said. “Sneaky, but smart.”

We'd left the lights on up here and now it was my turn to cross my fingers. This floor was much more to Duck's taste.

Bypassing the bathroom and guest room, which were serviceable but also boringly pedestrian, he headed toward the front and stopped dead at the entrance to the great room.

“Wow,” he said softly.

Tina, second in line, turned to me and Tank and pumped her fist in a silent “Yes!”

I pointed toward the sectionals, and the three of us plopped down on them while Duck gave a repeat performance of the one he'd made downstairs. I swear he didn't miss a thing, going over every piece of furniture, every painting, rug, cabinet, appliance, faucet, as if he was expected to pay for them and had no intention of being cheated.

He took the steps to the loft, stopped at the top, and looked down at us. “You're kidding.”

“Keep looking,” I said, hoping the bedroom wouldn't foul up the works.

He opened the closet doors and began to hum. “Practically a walk-in.” He tested the drawers, took one out and checked the construction. He stepped outside onto the tiny balcony, examined the lock on the door, closed it. He stooped and fingered the wall-to-wall carpet. Then he went into the master bath, and I held my breath.

I heard a low whistle of admiration, the toilet flush, the bidet swish, water run in the his-and-hers washbasins, cabinet doors under them open and close, the spray from the shower, the gurgle of water in the Jacuzzi. Finally, nothing.

Tina looked as if she might scream with impatience. I gulped in a deep breath, my body reacting to having been oxygen deprived from the moment Duck had walked up into the bathroom.

He came out, leaned over, elbows resting on the railing. “The bed's gotta go. When do we move in?”

There ensued a good five minutes of shouting, squealing, back-pounding, hugging, and kissing, in which I took little part. I couldn't. Too shocked to move, I just sat there. It wasn't that he had agreed that we should accept the house, he'd said “When do we move in?” the word of note being “move.” I wasn't sure how to interpret it.

“What's the problem, babe?” Duck asked, pulling me to my feet. “It's what you wanted, isn't it?”

“Yes, but . . .” I tried to figure out how to phrase it to find out what I needed to know. “I guess you surprised me. I thought you might argue that two households was a bit much since we—”

He pressed a finger to my lips, silencing me. “Not two households. One. This one. This floor. We'll rent the lower.”

“We'll take it!” Tina bellowed.

Tank ogled her. “Say what?”

She rounded on him, chin raised, eyes narrowed. “I want to rent it. I like it out here. What's the problem, Chuckles? We can afford it.”

For the second time in less than five minutes, I was rendered speechless. Part of my brain considered it a dynamite idea, the other part warned me about familiarity breeding contempt.

“I—I don't know what to say,” I admitted.

“She's right,” Duck said. “Ourland's a nice town, and this is a terrific house. But another reason I say let's go for it immediately is that I want you out of reach of your she-devil. At least I know that you'll be safe here.”

Tank, Tina, and I exchanged a pointed glance.

“What?” Duck demanded, immediately suspicious.

We were saved from having to respond by a bell. The door. W. Two.

After the “how're ya doings” and “glad to meet you's,” he got down to business. “The SUV's in the driveway down there. Who gets the bill? I only charged for a one-way tow.”

“Dead battery?” Duck asked, amused.

Tank scowled at him. “No. Someone let the air out of the tires while we were inside talking to Mrs. Ritch.”

Duck's brows flipped in surprise. “You're kidding.”

“And it wasn't Grady's boys.” W. Two looked from one to the other. “Turns out they don't get home from college until the nineteenth.”

“Well, hell.” Tank shrugged in defeat. “Might as well tell him. We think Leigh's mystery woman tailed us out here,” he said, digging in his back pocket for his billfold.

“Put that away.” Duck, veins throbbing in his temples, removed his own and handed over a credit card. W. Two, clearly sensing trouble of some sort, made short work of the transaction. “What's this about y'all being tailed?”

“Some woman's been making a nuisance of herself,” I said. “Tank saw an old model Honda behind us most of the way here.”

“And Leigh went out there to try to talk to her,” Tina chimed in, spilling the rest of the beans, “and almost got herself hit.”

I glared at Tina.

Duck glared at me.

“The Honda that was parked outside the gate?” W. Two asked. “What's that old biddy got against you?”

That got our attention. “You saw her?” Tank demanded. “Close up?”

“Well, yeah, on my way to get the Explorer. I mean, she's sitting out there with her blinkers on and I'm driving a tow truck. You figure I'm gonna pass up potential business? She said she was fine, just waiting to meet someone, and she appreciated my checking.”