Now or Never (50 page)

“Squeeze did his Houdini act—he squeezed out of your bedroom just in time. Blake stabbed him. The knife just missed his heart. He’s lost a lot of blood, but they operated, and he’s going to be okay.”

Harry sank onto the sofa next to her. He put his head in his hands. “Jesus,” he said, thinking how nearly he had lost everything that night.

She took his hand, and they looked searchingly at each other, hardly believing it was finally over.

Miffy thought what a handsome couple they would make. She surely hoped he wasn’t going to let her slip through his fingers.

“Another sandwich?” she asked, smiling.

I
T WAS A COUPLE
of weeks later. The light summer rain fell soft on Harry’s face as he rounded the corner to Ruby’s. Squeeze tugged on the leash, stopping to lap up a puddle here and there. The vet had shaved his chest fur, and the scar gleamed a livid red. “Take your time, old fella,” Harry said indulgently. Squeeze had earned all the time in the world. He thought they looked like a matched set—his scarred head and the dog’s scarred chest—like a couple of tough street scrappers. “Ain’t nobody gonna mess with us, old fella,” he added, grinning.

The bell over Ruby’s door jangled as he walked in. Shrugging the rain off his black leather jacket, he looked around, taking in the scene. It was much as usual. The windows were steamed, shutting out the dark wet evening, smoke curled blue to the nicotine-yellow ceiling, and the smell of decades of hash browns and fried chicken, of draft beer, coffee, and cigarettes, lingered in a comforting haze.

As usual, it was packed. Every table was taken. He caught Doris’s eye over the counter, where she was busy assembling huge slabs of chocolate fudge cake and vanilla ice cream on thick white plates. “Be with ya in a sec,” she mouthed.

She served her customers, then came over, wiping her hands on her apron. “Yeah?” she said.

“Yeah what, Doris?” He grinned at her.

“Whaddya want?”

“I want a table, goddammit.”

“Don’t ya always come at my busiest time,” she grumbled. “If it weren’t that your brave dog needs a good meal and a rest, I’d tell ya to wait your turn, detective.” She patted Squeeze’s head, and he wagged his tail, gazing hopefully at her. She sighed, “He sure knows a soft: touch when he sees one. Just like his master.”

“Mal Malone will be joining me”—Harry checked his watch—“in about fifteen minutes.”

“Well, why the hell didn’t you say so?” She scanned her tables, then marched to the corner booth, raking the customers and the half-empty cups of coffee with narrowed eyes. “Youse guys finished?” she demanded, hands on hips. “Can’t ya see there’s a line waiting?”

Harry grinned—Ruby’s never changed and, thank God, neither did Doris. She had them out of there in five minutes. The table was cleared and wiped with a damp cloth, and red-checkered paper placemats were laid down. Cutlery and napkins appeared in a flash, and a water glass containing a yellow daisy. “It’s all I could find. Think yourself lucky,” she muttered, slamming it on the table.

“Thanks, Doris. You’re terrific,” Harry said.

Squeeze whined, still looking hopefully at her, and she said, “Thought I’d forgotten you, huh?” She went behind the counter and returned a few minutes later with a bowl of steak. “Nothin’ but the best for you, brave boy,” she added, watching him wolf it down. “He’s the most famous dog in Boston,” she said proudly to Harry.

“I know.” He grinned at her. “And I’m the most famous cop.”

“And big-headed with it,” she sniffed. “You wanna beer? Or did you invest in a bottle of champagne for Miss Malone?”

“Beer will do just fine,” Harry said mildly.

He glanced at the door and remembered the last time
he had waited for Mal, in this same booth, on a rainy night just like this, not so many weeks ago. It was miraculous how a guy’s life could change, just like that, from a chance encounter. He ran his hands through his rumpled hair. Maybe he should have dressed up for her, put on a proper jacket and shirt. No tie, though. He drew the line at that.

The doorbell jangled, and she was standing there, looking around, eyebrows raised slightly as though wondering what the hell she was doing there. He grinned as he loped toward her. Mal never changed.

“Hi,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Hi to you.” She shook it.

He looked her up and down. She was wearing a blue work shirt, jeans, and a black leather jacket. “Snap,” he said, grinning.

“If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em, is what I figured,” she said.

Their eyes linked, shutting out the smoky little café and the other patrons. “You okay?” he asked. She nodded, sending her blond chrysanthemum crop bouncing, the raindrops sparkling like sequins under the lights.

“This way, ma’am.” Still holding her hand, he led her to the corner booth at the back.

“Our
table,” she said, remembering.

“Doris brought you a flower.” He showed her the yellow daisy, and she smiled.

“Doris is okay.”

“Salt of the earth,” he agreed.

“I know, you have a soft spot for waitresses.” She remembered Jilly.

“And TV detectives.” He watched her as she slid into the booth with that nice little movement that brought to mind the way she had looked in that minimal flutter of a dress she had worn to his mother’s party.

Squeeze emerged from under the table. He sat on his
haunches, gazing devotedly at Mal. “Hi, Squeeze,” she said, taking his paw. “How’s my boy?”

“Love me, love my dog.” Harry sighed.

“You wish!” She smiled mockingly at him, and he sighed again.

“You know something? You don’t change, Malone.”

Doris bustled toward them. She wiped her hand on the front of her apron, then stuck it out. “Hi, Mal, how’re ya doing?” she asked, beaming. “Is the cheapskate buyin’ you champagne tonight, or just the usual?”

“Just the usual, I guess,” Mal said. “How are you doing, Doris?”

“Can’t grumble.” Doris straightened her cap and looked earnestly at her. “I wanna tell you, you’re one brave woman, doin’ what you did. Gettin’ out there and sayin’ what you said. It’s because of you the Boston Serial Killer got caught. Us women gotta stick up for each other, like I said before.”

“Thanks, Doris.” Mal turned pink at the praise, and Harry stared at her, astonished that she still was so shy she blushed. “I just had to do it,” Mal admitted, and Doris patted her shoulder approvingly.

“Beers are on me,” she called over her shoulder as she walked away.

They looked at each other across the table. “You up for Vanessa’s party tonight?” he asked.

She nodded. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it. I’ll get to dance with you again.”

He grinned and ran his hand through his hair. “A little hot salsa, huh?”

He wriggled his shoulders, looking sexy, and she laughed. “I can’t wait.”

“You seen Squeeze’s medal?” Doris asked, back with the beers, as proud as if he were her own dog.

“A medal?” Mal looked astonished at Harry.

“The chief gave him the Dog Medal of Honor. He
didn’t really qualify because he’s not technically a police dog, but everybody figured he’d earned it.”

Squeeze slid from under the booth again. He lifted his paw and gazed adoringly at Doris.

“You gotta teach him a new trick,” she sighed. “This is gettin’ kinda monotonous.”

She hurried back to her counter. Harry whispered to Mal, “Wait.”

She was back again in a flash with another helping of steak. Harry heaved an exaggerated sigh, and Doris said defensively, “So he’ll get fat? So what?”

“He’s earned it,” Mal agreed. “And besides, it’s more fun than the medal. Thanks, Doris.”

“Want me to order for you?” Harry lifted a questioning dark brow at her.

“Sure, I like a surprise.” She folded her arms, ready for a challenge.

“Two ham steaks, home fries, and all the trimmings, Doris please.” He looked at Mal, grinning. “Like the lady said, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.”

Doris went off to place the order, and Mal took a sip of beer. She gazed at Harry across the table. His rumpled dark hair was growing in over the scar, and there was a fuzz of blue-black stubble across his jaw. He was so close, she could see the tiny dark flecks in his clear gray eyes. He was the best thing she’d ever seen in her life.

“So? Now that it’s all over, what happens to us?” he asked coolly.

She lifted her eyebrows in surprise. “Is this a
new
Detective Jordan I’m hearing?”

“It’s just the old one, come to his senses.” She looked hesitant, and he added, “You think we’re going to fight, Mallory, Malone, ma’am?”

“I’d prefer it if you’d just call me Mal,” she said.

He rolled his eyes, exasperated. “Okay, Mal. Are we fighting now?”

“You are
fighting.” She glared at him.

“I thought it was you.”

“Well, you would, wouldn’t you!”

They stared at each other, then he grinned. “Just think of the making up.”

A smile lurked at the corners of her mouth. “You were saying? About us?”

He shrugged. “It’s tough. What with a cop’s hours and a TV personality’s hours. And you being in New York and me in Boston.”

Mal took a deep breath. She knew it was now or never. “Think maybe they need a weather girl at WNET Boston?” she asked him with a smile.

Squeeze sank down, laid his head on her feet, and heaved a happy dog sigh.

Harry glanced at Mal. Their eyes locked. “Seems we’ve both lost our hearts,” he said. And he leaned across the table and kissed her.