So About the Money (44 page)

“That rather sucked, but is that why I caught you staring into the fire like Little Orphan Annie? Could it possibly be you’ll miss what you found here when you leave?”
 

Holly shifted in her chair. JC’s words echoed.
We didn’t finish our conversation.
“I thought working all the time was the reason I hadn’t found anybody special. I figured there’d be plenty of time, that eventually…”

“You’d meet Mr. Right?”

“I know it’s stupid. But…” She sighed. “I’m almost thirty and I’m going home alone to my mother’s cat. How pathetic is that?”

“Totally. Especially since your mother took the cat home when she brought over chicken soup. You don’t even have the fur ball.”

Holly rolled her eyes and picked up her wine glass. “Smartass.”

“Seriously, don’t settle for just anyone. We both know it’s always been JC.”

She nearly choked on her sip of wine. “You’re imagining things again.”
 

“JC was doing some major hovering action Thursday night.”

“If he was hovering, it’s because he wants to catch me doing something wrong.”

Laurie leaned close. Her eyes gleamed with conspiratorial fun. “It looked to me like he wanted to catch you doing something naughty, but it’s only illegal in certain states.”

Holly laughed. “That part I might not mind.”
 

“Let’s not forget what I interrupted last night.”

She quit laughing. It would be all or nothing with JC. There’d be no half-assed dating, marking time as she’d done with Alex. If she planned to go back to Seattle, JC was out of the picture. Permanently.

Probably.
 

Maybe.
 

And if she stayed? She’d seen things this week to admire in the man. Could they figure out a way to make a relationship work?

Laurie was looking at her expectantly. “Well?”

Unilateral decisions had landed her in this position to begin with. She still had no idea what to tell JC when they resumed their conversation. Communication and trust. Identifying the core issues was one thing. Doing something about them was the real challenge.

“I’m going to the ladies’ room. Don’t do anything with Blond Guy you’ll regret while I’m gone.”

“Who’s going to regret anything?”

~$~

Holly stepped out of the restroom stall, crossed to the sink, and checked her image in the mirror. Color brightened her cheeks and a spark lit her eyes. Refusing to cower at home felt as though she were making a statement. She wouldn’t be intimidated or made a prisoner by fear. Tonight was all about enjoying life. No obsessing over Tim and Marcy or the fraud. Not even any worries about Frank.
 

She had to admit Laurie was right about one thing. Having JC and the Richland cops watching out for Frank—and her—meant she didn’t have to constantly watch her own back. In spite of the ongoing murder investigation, which she would happily leave to the cops for the next few days, she felt more relaxed than she’d been in months.

The outer door opened behind her. The chilly blast had nothing to do with the air temperature. Nicole appeared in the mirror behind her, her eyes narrowed. “Leave my husband alone.”

Holly reached for a paper towel. Nicole was not going to ruin her evening. This misunderstanding had to end. Remembering how angry she’d been at Meredith—okay, that bitch really
had
snaked her man—she could understand Nicole’s fury. But the woman had reached the wrong conclusion about what she thought she’d seen.
 

Since she planned to dump Tim as a client, she could approach Nicole woman-to-woman. “I don’t have any designs on Tim. He doesn’t interest me in the least.”

“I’m not stupid. You’re ruining everything.” The petite blonde spun on her pretty little heel, stalked into a stall, and slammed the door.
 

Well, that worked just wonderfully.

“Don’t worry,” Holly called, feeling ridiculous and more than a little eager to leave the room. “I’ll stay as far away from Tim as possible.”

She jerked open the outside door and stepped into the discretely lit breezeway. Music, firelight, and laughter drifted around the corner of the building.
 

A man’s form detached itself from the deep shadows of the terrace. Her heart leapt at the possibility it might be JC. But the reptile-fearing remnant of her brain screamed,
Run away!

“I need to talk to you.”

A different set of warning bells rang. She glanced over her shoulder toward the restroom. She had no interest in feeding Nicole’s delusion. “Call Tracey and make an appointment.”

She stepped toward the back patio. Tim’s hand shot out, capturing her elbow. “No, now. You have to stop.”

“Let go of me.”

She tugged her arm, but he pulled her closer. His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “I’ll fix it, but you have to stop digging into everything.”

Holly froze. Why had she thought she could do the cloak and dagger thing? How many times had she complained she couldn’t make a move without half the town commenting? Of course he’d noticed she was asking too many questions about him.
 

Did he know about her visit to Yakima?

Had
Tim
been driving the SUV?

“I did not kill Marcy, but all the noise you’re making could bring the cops down on my head.”

She pried his fingers off her arm. “Then do the right thing.”

“I will. I promise. Just give me some time.”

“Everything okay?” A man, one of the group from the fire pit, stepped onto the terrace.

She could’ve kissed him, except the way her luck was running, his girlfriend would pick that moment to visit the restroom.
 

“It’s fine. He’s leaving.” She pulled her arm free as the door to the women’s restroom banged closed.
Crap
. How much of
this
conversation had Nicole heard?
 

Before she could say more, Nicole stepped beside her husband and threaded her arm through Tim’s. “I’m so tired, honey. I need to go home.”

Both men turned their attention to the petite woman, who looked fragile and beautiful in the dim light. Holly took another step away from the couple.
 

“Negative people ruin the evening.” She shot a glance at Holly before nestling her head on her husband’s shoulder.

 
“Whatever you want, Honey.” Tim wound his arm around her shoulders and the pair headed toward the parking lot.
 

“What was that about?” Her rescuer gave her a curious glance.
 

For a second, she wanted to tell him everything, Tim and the fraud, whether Marcy was involved, and how much Nicole knew or suspected, but she bit her tongue. The guy was a complete stranger. “Damned if I know.”

They watched Tim bundle Nicole into the front seat of his Mercedes. “That is one weird woman.” He shrugged and grinned. “I never went for the helpless waif routine.”

Finally
, someone else saw through Nicole’s act. Not that it helped Holly deal with the deluded woman. She gave him a grateful smile before she turned back to the fire pit. “Thanks for the rescue.”

Chapter Forty-three

The jazz trio playing inside the wine bar finished their last set.
 

“Are you ready to go?” Laurie asked Holly.
 

Gwen hovered on the other side of the chair, purse slung over her shoulder.
 

Holly glanced around the back patio. Several other people drained their glasses and rose, preparing to leave as well. “Well…I’m supposed to meet somebody here.”

“Who?” Laurie’s eyebrows rose as understanding dawned. “JC. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”
 

“Because I didn’t want to have this conversation? It isn’t like that. It’s business.”

Laurie’s mouth twitched into a three-pointed smile. “Sure, Sweetie. Anything you say.”

“Really.”
 

“We can wait a little longer,” Gwen said.

“That isn’t necessary.”
 

You’re necessary
, rang in her memory. What did he mean by that?
“You two go home. He’ll be here soon. He probably got tied up with cop stuff.”

Twenty minutes later, the crowd had thinned to a few clusters that bubbled with boisterous laughter and a couple who appeared oblivious to everyone else. Holly glanced at her watch again and sighed. Now what? Keep waiting for JC, call a cab, or walk? She pulled her phone from her pocket and scrolled through her contacts to JC’s name. She added his cell number to her voice contacts, quietly said his name, and waited for him to answer.

His voicemail greeted her instead.

Great.
Talking? Or was his phone turned off?

“Hi, JC. It’s Holly. It’s getting late and it looks like you were held up somewhere. I’m going to walk home. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

~$~

“You sure you don’t want me to call a cab?” The waiter’s eyebrow rose.

“It’s only a mile. I’ll be home before the cab gets here.”
 

Holly strode away from Bookwalter. She picked up the bike path at the intersection of Queensgate and Keene, and headed toward Badger Mountain Park. Traffic on Keene was light, an occasional car whisking past, headlights bright. She angled her head, shielding her eyes, and appreciated the wide berm which separated the paved trail from the road.
 

The myriad stars and a full moon made a flashlight unnecessary. Hands thrust in her jacket pockets, she threw back her head and pulled the crisp air deep into her lungs. The sharp scent of sage drifted across the field and an owl called from a tree near the creek. The bird sounded poignant rather than spooky, the darkness enveloping rather than scary.

Content to relax in the moment, she strode along the path toward the park. She could cut through it to her neighborhood or keep walking on the bike path and catch the cross street. Her cramped muscles loosened and she wondered why she didn’t find time to walk more often. The neighborhood walking trails lay just outside her door, simply waiting for her to notice them.
 

Footsteps sounded behind her.

She jumped, turned in alarm, and registered a man on the trail. Jeans, leather jacket, bare head. Her hand pressed her thumping heart as she sighed with relief and anticipation. She knew this man’s build and silhouette.
 

JC broke into an easy jog. “Wait up.”
 

She braced for the safety lecture about not waiting at Bookwalter. But if he planned to finish their earlier conversation, she was willing to take a stab at the trust and control issues.

Part of her brain noted that a hundred yards behind her, a car pulled from the park’s lot and accelerated toward them. The rest focused on JC. He was close enough for her to appreciate the moonlight that danced through his hair and highlighted his strong facial planes.
 

The car slowed. Curious—and cautious—she squinted at the harsh glare of the headlights. At least she didn’t have to worry about it jumping the curb and hitting them.

The night erupted—a confusion of explosions and streaking flashes of light.
 

“Get down!” JC tackled her.
 

She slammed onto the pavement. His weight crushed the breath from her lungs. Thursday’s bruises shrieked with outrage.

“Stay down.”

No argument there.
 

The car engine roared and faded as the driver sped away. For a moment, it was completely silent, as if even the insects were astonished.
 

JC lifted his head and stared into her eyes. “Good Lord, woman. Who’d you piss off?”

Chapter Forty-four

JC had his cell phone out. Without waiting for her answer, he mashed a speed dial and said, “Shots fired. Shooter northbound on Keene in a dark-colored SUV. It looked like a Suburban. I didn’t get the full tag, just Washington ANR24 something.”