Losing Penny (27 page)

Drake held up his finger. “I thought you’d
probably say that. So here’s another one, “Penny Lee, after a
severe injury—” he pointed to her foot.

“How is that not a lie?” Penny laughed.

“You
did
hurt your foot. Just listen,
no more interrupting.” He cleared his throat and resumed his
anchorman imitation. “After being waylaid by an unfortunate
accident, Penny decided to spend the summer in her family’s beach
house recuperating. In order to fulfill her contractual
agreement—”

“There’s no contract—”

“Hush, no one knows that!” The anchorman
voice returned. “For a summer of international foods and flavors.”
He paused. “I particularly like that last bit—international foods
and flavors.” He looked up when she didn’t respond.

Her face had lost its color and her eyes were
wide.

“Penny?” He followed her gaze out the window.
A big black car pulled down the drive. “Who is it?” he asked,
standing. “Is it the Lurk?”

She shook her head. “My brother.”

Drake had imagined that the Watchdog creator
would be small, thin, and belong to the pocket protector crowd. He
assumed a football player or a shot-putter wouldn’t need to rely on
electronics to protect his sister.

He had assumed wrong.

Richard stood in the doorway, his breathing
heavy. His gaze ran over Drake and their eyes locked. Drake felt
like a matador being sized up by a bloodthirsty bull, and he
instinctively pulled himself up to his full height.

Wolfgang rushed in.

Social and familial relationships are just as
important to health as other common risk factors like smoking, lack
of exercise, or obesity.

From
Losing Penny and Pounds

Richard puffed out
his chest and narrowed his eyes. He reminded Penny of a long ago
afternoon spent in Los Angeles’ Fashion District when they shopped
for a dress for her middle school graduation. The crowded alleyway
pulsed with people. Music blared from overhead speakers and the air
smelled of fried foods and cigarettes.

After Richard had barked one too many threats
of kidnappers and rapists, Penny had asked, “Why are you trying to
scare me?”

“Because you’re not sufficiently scared!” he
had yelled. Nearly twenty years later, he wore the same expression.
Most of his hostility was focused on Drake, but his eyes flicked to
Wolfgang. The dog stood erect, with his head lowered and his tail
pointing straight behind him. His vicious stance made him both
terrible and beautiful. The fur on the back of his neck rose into a
Mohawk, and he barked in rapid, noisy succession.

“What’s that?” Richard asked.

“That is Wolfgang,” Drake said.

“And who are you?”

Finding it interesting that Richard was more
curious about the dog than in Drake, Penny made introductions.
Maybe Richard thought Drake was a drive-by and not worth knowing,
where as the dog might be around a lot longer. Well, that was
probably true, wasn’t it? Her relationship with Wolfgang probably
would out last her relationship with Drake. She knew that.

“Can’t you make that dog be quiet?” Richard
asked Drake.

Drake pulled a doggie treat from his pocket
and used it to lure the dog outside.

“What’s he doing here?” Richard asked as soon
as Drake was out of earshot.

Penny folded her arms. “The dog?”

“No, the guy.” Richard raked his fingers
through his hair.

“Better question—what are you doing here?”
Her voice sounded light, but it had a tinge of nervousness that
Richard probably noticed. She cleared her throat, sat down on the
sofa, and glared at her brother.

He met her glare and added toe tapping.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in India by now?”

“Are you suggesting that India is safer than
Rose Arbor?”

Richard’s gaze ran over Drake who slunk back
into the room. “Maybe.”

“What dragged you out of Alaska?”

Richard settled into the wingback chair and
crossed one leg over the other. “Rose.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Penny
softened her voice and her gaze flicked to Drake who was leaning in
the doorway.

Richard nodded at Drake. “Do you want to talk
about him?”

Penny fought the temptation to stamp her
feet. “I’m thirty-three years old. You’re embarrassing me and
yourself.”

Richard rose from his chair with his finger
pointed at her. “You lost the right to feel embarrassment or
anything other than blinding stupidity the moment you moved into
this beach house with a stranger.” He stepped closer, his voice
softening. “Why didn’t you tell me about the stalker?”

Penny threw her hands into the air. “Because
I knew you would do this!”

“This?”

“Yes! You’d make it into a great big deal!”
She waved her hands in the air to encompass the great big deal.

Richard harrumphed and paced across the room.
“Oh, and for you it’s not a big deal? It’s
so
not a big deal
that you created an elaborate charade and pretended to travel the
world?”

“Why was it okay for me to travel the world
alone, but not okay for me to stay at the beach house?”

“You were supposed to travel with Phoebe, and
I knew the hotels and your itinerary.”

Understanding dawned and she unfolded from
the sofa to stand in front of him with her finger pointed in his
face. “You’re not just mad that I came here on my own. You’re mad
that I didn’t tell you and that I didn’t ask for your
permission.”

“You don’t need my permission.”

“Exactly.”

Richard’s lips twitched with a slow smile.
“So we agree.”

“That I don’t need your permission?”

“And that you need a safe place to live.”

“I guess,” Penny said slowly.

“A place in a high-security building.”

“High-security?” Penny echoed.

Richard lifted his finger, signaling for her
to wait. “We’ll solve this right now.” He banged out the front
door.

Penny turned to Drake. “My brother.”

Drake moved toward her as if to take her into
his arms, but she stopped him with an outstretched hand. “Don’t get
too close. You don’t want to meet the hyper-protective
brother.”

Drake stood still in the middle of the room.
“I thought we were all ready introduced.”

“Oh no,” Penny said with a look over her
shoulder. “The guy you just met was relatively polite. The
hyper-protective brother is a maniac.” Penny’s eyes widened as
Richard returned with a black leather box. Her head felt float-away
light.

Drake’s eyes narrowed as he watched Richard
enter the house. “What is that?” he asked.

“Guns,” Penny told him, her voice heavy and
deep.

Hans lay awake that night counting the stars.
Even though he was far away, he found comfort in the thought that
the same moon that cast its beams on him also smiled on Ingrid.
Then his mother’s muffled cries came from the other side of the
stone wall.

From
Hans and the Sunstone

What was this,
showdown at the O.K. Corral? Drake’s thoughts raced as Richard laid
his box down on the mantle.

“That’s not going to work with me anymore,”
Penny said, as if toting guns was standard practice.

Richard smiled. “I thought you might need
persuading.”

What does that mean? Is he going to shoot off
her toes unless she willingly—what? Why had he come? How could his
actual presence have any more influence over a phone call? Unless
he planned on throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her back
to New York.

“Go and put those away,” Penny said. “We’re
not kids anymore.”

Drake watched in horrified fascination as
Richard drew out one shiny pistol. He held it by the barrel and
handed it to his sister.

“You know I prefer the Beretta,” Penny told
him.

Richard lifted an eyebrow and brought out
another gun. “Ready?”

Penny’s shoulders slumped. “This isn’t going
to work.”

“Look, you’re right,” Richard said, frowning
as he checked the safety. “I can’t make you come to New York with
me, even though I found you a great apartment in my building.”

“You did?” Penny asked.

Richard nodded. “Complete with a
doorman.”

“Does he carry a gun too?” Drake asked. He
closed his mouth and pressed his lips into a straight line when
Richard glared at him.

Someone knocked on the door. Drake stood, but
Richard shot him a move-and-die look. Drake eased back into his
chair. Penny glared at her brother and he stared right back. Penny
touched her forehead with her fingertips and moved toward the
door.

Trevor stood in the bright morning light,
looking like a J. Crew ad.

“Who’s this?” Richard asked, waving his gun
at him.

“Trevor Marx.” Trevor stuck out his hand and
Richard took it, watching Trevor the way a dog watches a squirrel.
“What’s going on? Is this like a shoot out?”

“Richard is Penny’s brother. In their family,
they solve their differences with guns,” Drake told Trevor.

“Wow. Why didn’t I think of that? It’s not
legal though, right? I can’t just shoot my sister?”

“We don’t shoot each other,” Penny said.

“As much as we might want to,” Richard said.
“Who are you?”

“Trevor is a friend,” Penny clarified. “We’re
all just friends, here.”

“Is that true?” Richard asked, his eyes on
Drake.

“Well, actually,” Trevor began. “We all
thought Maggie—I mean Penny—was married to Drake.”

“What?” A vein on the side of Richard’s neck
pulsed.

“That was yesterday, before the cooking
goddess scandal,” Trevor continued. He turned his attention to
Drake. “So glad you haven’t left yet.”

“You’re leaving?” Richard asked.

Drake gave a short, brief nod, and it felt
like a punch to his gut. He watched Penny’s face turn white with
the news. But she slowly straightened her shoulders and narrowed
her eyes. Drake turned to see what Penny saw: Melinda.

“And who’s this?” Richard asked, taking in
Melinda’s jewel-toned jeans and camisole top.

“His sister.” Drake jerked his head at
Trevor.

Trevor’s wide-eyed gaze went back and forth
between Richard and Penny. “Huh, maybe it’d be safer if Penny
wasn’t holding a gun around Melinda.”

“Why is that?” Richard asked.

“She may be the one who leaked Penny’s
whereabouts.”

Penny’s grip tightened on the gun. “Just may
be?”

Trevor blanched. “Okay, she did it, but she’s
coming to say she’s sorry, so that should mean something, right?”
He turned to Drake. “Really, what’s with the guns?”

Drake just shook his head.

When Melinda walked through the door, her
eyes widened when she saw the pistol dangling from Penny’s
fingers.

“Is that loaded?” Melinda asked.

Penny flipped the gun over, considering it.
“Why, yes it is.”

“I’ve come to apologize,” Melinda blurted
out.

Richard barked a short laugh. “Ah, the power
of a handgun.” He strode through the kitchen and into the built-in
porch. After a curious glance at Drake’s tightly made bed, he
pushed through the back door. It banged behind him.

“No,” Melinda said, “My apology has nothing
to do with the…why are you holding a gun anyway?”

Penny shrugged and sighed. “It’s a brother
sister thing.”

Trevor and Melinda looked at each other. “You
settle your arguments with weapons?” Melinda asked.

“Some siblings pull hair, we use target
practice,” Penny said. “The best shot wins. But maybe I should
shoot you. You’ve probably ruined my career.”

“I said I was sorry.” Melinda pouted.

“Did you really come over to apologize?”
Drake asked.

“Sure. Why is that so hard to believe?”
Melinda jutted out her chin.

Richard poked his head through the back door.
“Penny, I’ve got the targets set up.”

Penny stomped outside and Drake followed. He
had to see this.

“Guns aren’t going to settle this,” Penny
said.

Richard smiled and handed his sister pair of
earplugs. “If you win, I won’t Watchdog you ever again.”

Penny stood stock-still. “Seriously? Because
you’ve made that promise before.”

“But I didn’t mean it before,” Richard
said.

“How can I trust you? How do I know you mean
it now?”

“I won’t ever Watchdog you again, and you
don’t have to pay me for the television studio I set up in New
York.”

“You set up a studio for me in New York?”

“You’ll love the apartment—Rose picked it
out. Crown molding, granite counters in the kitchen…a Viking
stove.”

“A Viking stove?” Penny echoed.

It looked to Drake as if Richard had won long
before the actual shooting even began. He wanted to jump in to
offer Penny a bigger and better Viking, but his offer would only be
a work of fiction. After all—he knew Vikings, he’d lived and
breathed Vikings—but Penny’s coveted stove had nothing to do with
the Vikings on ships. Just as he, really, had nothing to do with
Penny. She belonged in a world of doormen and gourmet stoves, and
Drake couldn’t give that to her. His Vikings belonged to another
century.

All Drake could do was watch Penny and mourn
a love that almost was. Rather than the typical red and white
circular targets or the black and white human silhouettes he had
seen on TV police procedurals, Richard had pinned up cartoon
caricatures of bulls on two trees in the backyard. Now that he knew
what to look for, Drake saw that the trees were riddled with pocks
from past shoot-outs. It bothered him that Penny and Richard had
been using firearms to solve their problems, because he didn’t have
even one little bit of ammo.

Melinda stood at his elbow, her face close to
his. Her lips moved, but he couldn’t hear her over the
gunshots.