To Trust a Stranger (13 page)

“Oh, yeah? You have any trouble there?”

“By the time they got to the house I was so mad at Sid I didn't even care if I was lying to the police.”

He laughed. “That works.”

Turning down East Doty, where Civil War-era relics were crammed
doric
-columned porch to
doric
-columned porch, he turned serious again. “Calling me was a smart thing to do. Following your husband around yourself would only have gotten you into trouble.”

“I found that out last night.”

“There are worse things than getting your car stolen.” The Blazer stopped at a light, and his gaze met hers. “Look, I've got to tell you: I've never worked on one of these cheating-spouse cases where the party who hired me was wrong about what was going on.”

Julie took a deep breath, and her hands clenched in her lap. “I'm prepared for that. And I don't think I'm wrong. But I have to be sure.”

“You will be. Either way.” Josephine jumped back into the front seat and landed in Julie's lap. “Good girl, Josephine.” Julie hugged the little dog.

“I think she likes you.”

“What's not to like?” Julie sent a teasing glance his way as Josephine curled up in her lap like a cat. “Nothing that I can see.” His response was barely audible. But the tone of it seemed so infused with purely heterosexual meaning that Julie frowned. He met her eyes for the briefest of pregnant moments, then slid his gaze along the bare length of her legs, his expression openly covetous. Julie's eyes widened.

Then he added: “I have to tell you, girlfriend, those are absolutely to-die-for shoes. Are they
Manolos
?” So much for her sudden suspicion that he was behaving in a very male way. She should have remembered: Debbie had a thing for shoes. He'd recommended heels with last night's lingerie, after all. “Jimmy
Choo
.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Nice. Too bad they don't make '
em
in a size twelve.”

Julie grinned. “I doubt there's much market for Jimmy
Choo
sandals in a man's size twelve.”

“You'd be surprised,
Miz
Carlson. You'd be surprised.”

“Julie, please.”

“Julie, then. And I'm Mac. It's kind of hard to get taken seriously in a business setting when you're a man and then someone goes and calls you Debbie.” He braked at a traffic light.

“Did I cause a problem for you at work? I'm sorry.”

“Lucky I own sixty percent of the business. With a more conservative boss, you could have gotten me fired.” Julie laughed. Then she sobered as she got down to business. “You'll have to tell me how this private-investigator thing works, because I don't have a clue. Do you have a daily rate or something? Do you take checks? Credit cards?” “In your situation you're better off paying me cash.” He was sudddenly all business, too. “That way nothing can be traced back to you if your husband should somehow get suspicious and start looking into things. You should know that can happen. Domestic cases have a way of getting real nasty sometimes.” Julie had no doubt of that. As soon as Sid found out she was thinking divorce the proverbial excrement was going to hit the proverbial fan. “I'll bill you for my hours,” he added. “It'll probably end up being two or three thousand dollars by the time everything's said and done. If I think it's going to go over that, I'll get your approval first.”

Julie nodded. “Okay. And you'll let me know how much your car is to fix, won’t you?”

“I'll add it to the tab. If you're not careful, you're going to wind up owing me your firstborn child.”

The words were meant to be humorous, but they caused a tiny pang in the region of Julie's heart. If the divorce happened, the children she wanted and that Sid had resisted would never become reality. And at twenty-nine, her biological clock was already starting to tick loud and clear.

“So tell me about your marriage. For example, when did you and your husband first meet?”

Julie was glad to be distracted. “I met Sid the night after I was crowned Miss South Carolina. There was a big reception at the governor’s mansion and he was there. I was talking to the· governor, so thrilled to be there that I was pretty much on cloud nine anyway, and then Sid came up and that was that. He swept me off my feet. We dated for the year of my reign, and then married a month after it was over.”

Instead of being moved by her story, Mac frowned as he listened.

Which, considering how her marriage looked like it was turning out, was probably a more appropriate response anyway.

“What were you, twenty when you met him? Didn't your family have any objections to you getting involved with a man so much older?”

“Eleven years isn't that much,” Julie said. “And no, my family didn't object. Are you kidding? There were just the three of us-my mother and my sister Becky and me-and we were so poor that eating at McDonald's was like going to a fancy restaurant. Sid was rich. He was handsome. He was charming. And I was in love with him. My family-my mother especially-was over the moon.”

His lips tightened. “What happened to your father?” Julie hesitated a moment before replying. Talking about the father who had never been there was still, after all these years, a little painful.

“He and my mother divorced when I was little. I used to see him periodically-a couple of times a year. Then he went away somewhere. I just saw him once more, and then he drowned a couple of weeks later.” A lump-stupid, stupid lump-rose in her throat, and she swallowed hard to get rid of it.

“Sounds like you had a tough life.” There was a certain rough sympathy to his tone. His gaze slid in her direction, and Julie saw that he was looking-what?-a little annoyed? Or maybe that was just how he looked when he felt sorry for someone. Julie's chin came up. She wasn't much into sympathy, at least not when it was directed at her. All her sympathy went to people who were in the same boat she had once been in. She did her best to reach out a hand to them, teaching a regular class on makeup and grooming to the ever-changing residents of the local women's shelter, donating clothes and fittings to poor women who had nothing to wear to job interviews, and generally doing what she could to help others along the path. But she no longer wanted or needed sympathy for herself She had pulled herself out of poverty by her bootstraps-or, to be more accurate, by her high heels. And if she had to, she could do it again. Her response was, therefore, deliberately light.

“It was interesting.” At that moment Josephine stood up on her lap and gave an imperious-sounding yap. All attention immediately focused on her.

“What?” Mac said to Josephine, sounding exasperated. Her tail wagged madly, and she yapped again.

“She's got to go to the bathroom,” he translated for Julie's benefit, and glanced around. They were approaching the
Azalea
Park
and Bird Sanctuary, which was a magnet for tourists, although the locals, being blasé about so familiar a site, rarely visited. Pushcarts offering all manner of foodstuffs, vendors hawking balloons, and a juggler tossing china plates in the air prowled the area in front of the gates. Visitors streamed along the footpaths leading into the park. Mac found a parking place near the gates and pulled in. Julie looked around nervously. She really didn't want to be spotted in his company-she could hear the questions about her companion's identity now-but that didn't seem very likely. The chance of someone she knew being at this particular tourist trap at just past noon on a steamy Saturday in July was so slim as to be negligible. He reached into the backseat and came up with a leash. It was pink leather and rhinestones, like Josephine's collar. Josephine wriggled excitedly when she saw it. His expression was something less than excited as he clipped it to her collar.

“Want to walk for a few minutes, or would you rather wait in the car?” His gaze met hers.

”I'll walk.”

He turned off the engine, pocketed the keys, and got out of the car. Julie got out, too, and waited on the sidewalk for him to come around. The sun blazed down, the heat was oppressive, and the tourists were, for the most part, elderly folk decked out in plaid Bermuda shorts and crushable hats. Still, Julie felt happier than she had all day.

Josephine squatted and relieved herself the moment she hit grass. Then Mac, his expression faintly martyred, and Josephine, wreathed in doggy smiles, headed toward her. Looking from one to the other-the tall, broad-shouldered, athletically built man with his surfer-god looks and the prancing white puffball of a very feminine poodle, linked by a rhinestone studded pink leash-brought a smile to her face. Julie was suddenly very glad that she was not facing this situation with Sid alone. Debbie and dog might be unlikely allies, but they were allies nonetheless.

“Still feel like walking?” He smiled wryly at her. Josephine wagged her tail.

“Sure.” Julie turned toward the gates. Mac and Josephine fell into step beside her. Josephine, being adorable, attracted her fair share of glances. Those glances inevitably shifted from the tiny prancing dog to Mac at the other end of the leash and tended to end with surprised expressions. Mac smiled in answer to the smiles directed at him, but Julie noticed that he didn't look particularly happy to be the focus of so much attention.

Just before they stepped inside the park, Mac signalled to one of the ice-cream vendors, who responded by pushing his cart their way. A pair of elderly women walked by, birding glasses in hand, casting covert glances at Mac and Josephine as they passed.

“Tell you what, I'll buy you an ice cream if you hold the leash,” Mac said.

Julie laughed and took the proffered leash as the ice-cream vendor reached them. Mac ordered a Dove Bar, then glanced inquiringly at Julie.

“None for me, thanks.”

“You sure?”

She nodded, and he shrugged and paid. The ice-cream vendor moved on, and they headed inside the park. Now that Julie held the leash, the attention Josephine attracted was unambiguously positive.

“You don't like ice cream?” Mac took a bite out of one corner. Julie watched enviously as he crunched through the crisp chocolate shell to expose the creamy white goodness within.

“I love ice cream. I just don't eat it.”

“Why not?”

“A moment on the lips, forever on the hips.” God, she sounded like her mother. His gaze ran over her body.

“You don't look like you need to worry.”

“If I didn't worry, I would need to. Just eat your ice cream, okay? It's not like I'm starving or anything.” Her stomach growled just then, giving the lie to her words. Julie's eyes widened, then flew to meet his. He grinned at her.

“It's lunchtime, and I haven't eaten yet.” She felt compelled to explain away her body's embarrassing gaffe.

“So take a bite of ice cream.” He held the DoveBar out to her. Julie eyed the unbitten corner covetously. She loved DoveBars. They were right up there with Hershey bars on her forbidden list.

“One bite, won’t make you fat.”

One bite. One piece of chocolate. It was a slippery slope, as her mother had pointed out earlier, and Julie knew it. But still-she surrendered to temptation, and sank her teeth into the treat held so tantalizingly close. Oh, it was good. It was so-o good. Smooth milk chocolate wrapped around sweet vanilla ice cream-she could just die.

“Thank you,” she said, when the treat had left her mouth in search of her hips and she was able to talk.

“My pleasure.” He held the DoveBar out to her again, but this time she shook her head. Firmly. He shrugged, took another bite, then passed the rest to Josephine, who, apparently unconcerned with her girlish figure, downed it greedily. When she was finished she looked p, clearly hoping for more. She had a ring of chocolate around her Louth and looked so comically expectant that Julie had to chuckle. “Don't laugh. You're not in much better shape.” Mac grinned at her. They had stopped in the shade of an enormous magnolia while Josephine wolfed her treat, and the scent of the waxy white blossoms wafted around them. The path underfoot was crunchy gravel, and birdsong filled the air. The only tourists in sight were busy exclaiming about a yellow-throated bullfinch or some such creature apparently perched high in a bearded oak some twenty yards away.

“I have chocolate on my mouth?” Julie's fingers rose to her mouth self-consciously. Tracing the perimeter, she shook her head at him. “I do not.”

“Yes you do. Just there.” Still grinning, he touched the
center
of her lower lip with his forefinger, then rubbed his finger back and forth along the line where her lips joined. Her response to the playful gesture shocked her. Her lips parted, and heat shot from where his finger touched clear down to her toes, awakening every single nerve ending in between. She had to stop herself from touching that hard warm finger with her tongue, or drawing it into her mouth and biting down, or ...

Oh, God, was she pathetic or what? Even as she gritted her teeth and pressed her lips together to stave off the impulse, her gaze flew to is face. Surely he must be experiencing this surge of mind-blowing electricity too? It was impossible that such sizzling heat could be affecting her alone.

But if he was battling a sudden fierce attack of sexual desire, he showed no sign of it. He was looking down at Josephine, his expression perfectly peaceful, and his hand was already dropping away from er mouth. The dismal truth hit her like a splash of cold water in the face: her body was at full boil, and his hadn't even hit simmer.