Leo had left sometime during the night without saying goodbye, but he left a note on my pillow saying, Hope you slept in. I didn’t want to wake you. There was a tiny heart drawn in the corner, but as far as I was concerned that little heart hinted at big things. He’d said he was glad he’d met me. He’d been particularly sweet and romantic and attentive before we’d fallen asleep, and my body was still tingling from it. I stretched like a kitty in the sun, feeling sensual and sublime. Leo Walker made me happy.
Apparently, he also made me a little decadent and lazy. It was nearly nine thirty in the morning, and I was usually up and out the door by eight. Sure, it was Saturday, but I couldn’t spend the whole day lounging under the covers. Plus, I was scheduled to meet my sisters for lunch.
I got up and headed toward the bathroom, blushing at the memory of our slippery, soapy antics in the shower. My peach-colored towels sat in a heap on the white tile floor, and as I scooped them up to throw them in the wash something fell to the floor with a clatter. Leo’s phone. It must have fallen from his pocket when he’d dropped his pants. No surprise, really. He had been in quite a hurry to get those jeans off. No worries, though. I’d have plenty of time to get ready and drop the phone off at Leo’s place before I headed to the restaurant.
I thought about texting him to let him know I had his phone . . .
Yeah. That’s not going to work.
I couldn’t resist checking to see if he had a lock screen, and he did, so no surfing his photos. I probably wouldn’t have done it anyway. Especially given our conversation last night about Dmitri. Clearly Leo’s sense of morality was pretty strict, with the lines between right and wrong well defined. But that was a good thing. My lines were pretty specific, too. I didn’t lie, cheat, or steal. If I had friends who did? Well, that was something I was still trying to work out.
I walked up the slight incline on Cahill Road a little while later, glad the sun was shining and the wind was calm. Leo had told me he was staying in the yellow cottage with blue shutters, so I knew where I was headed. I got to the front porch and heard voices inside. I paused with my hand raised, ready to knock, but something made me hesitate. It was a man and a woman talking. Not so loudly that I could make out the words but loud enough that I could sense the conversation was a heated one.
I stepped back from the door and cast a glance up and down the street. Was there a different yellow cottage with blue shutters? Had somebody painted? Not that I could see. A nauseating sort of premonition swirled in my gut. If Leo was in there with a woman . . . I didn’t know what that might mean, but I knew it couldn’t be good.
Squaring my shoulders like a superhero flinging my cape to the side, I stepped back to the door and knocked decisively.
The voices stopped, and a second later Leo opened the door. He blanched when he saw me.
“Brooke? Hi. What’s up?”
“You left your phone at my place,” I said, leaving it in my back pocket rather than offering it to him. “Who are you talking to?”
“Me? Nobody. It’s just the TV. Thanks so much for bringing me my phone.” He held out his hand.
I moved my foot forward. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
He looked over his shoulder. “Um . . .”
“You’re going to let me in.” I pushed my way past him and walked inside the tiny cottage. There was a sitting room full of brown and tan upholstered furniture, a short hallway leading to a bedroom and a bathroom, and a rustic but serviceable kitchenette. And standing in that kitchenette next to a vintage refrigerator was the woman from the bar. Biker-Chick Barbie. She was leaning against the pine-topped counter, as casual as somebody just waiting in line for a bus. She was drinking from a paper coffee cup, and her expression didn’t change one iota when she saw me. I doubt I could say the same for myself.
I turned to Leo. “Just the television, huh?”
Frown lines creased his forehead. “This probably looks bad, Brooke, but it’s not what you think. I can guarantee it.”
I crossed my arms and tapped my foot. “Okay, then. How about you tell me what it is?” There had to be at least zero good reasons for that woman to be standing in his kitchen. At least zero reasons that would stop this sinking sensation in my chest.
“What’s she doing here, Leo?” the woman asked, as if I wasn’t right there to hear her. I glared in her direction, trying not to notice today’s outfit of tight jeans, knee-high black leather boots, and a black wide-necked top that was shifted to only cover one shoulder. The strap of a black bra peeked out over her other shoulder. It was a little early in the day for such a Saturday night kind of outfit. Skanky ho.
“What am I doing here?” I asked, staring directly at her. “I came by to give Leo his phone because he dropped it in my bathroom last night when he stripped off all his clothes to get in the shower with me.” Hah! Take that, skanky ho!
She rolled her eyes. Loudly. “Jesus, Leo. Can’t you keep it in your pants? And I’m not talking about your phone, by the way.” She took a slug of coffee, and I swiveled back to him.
“Okay,” he said, rubbing his hands together and looking all sorts of uncomfortable. “What we have here is a unique situation. And Brooke, there are things I should have told you about sooner but . . . I couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t? Or just didn’t? Either way, I suggest you tell me now.”
“I can’t.”
God damn it. How did this keep happening to me? The first guy I’d fallen for in six years, the first guy since Jason, and there was another woman involved? Again? My stomach roiled, and the coffee I’d had for breakfast threatened to come back up. Whether I had the worst luck or the worst judgment, it appeared I’d been lied to. Again.
“You may as well tell her, Leo,” the woman said. “She’s going to find out soon enough anyway.”
I didn’t like the casual way she seemed to be in charge here. “Who are you?” I snapped.
“I’m Leo’s partner,” she said, finishing the coffee and tossing the empty cup into the trash can at the end of the counter. She sauntered over to the couch and sat down, knees apart with her elbows resting on them, hands dangling casually.
I shifted my steely-eyed stare from her to him. “Your partner?”
“Business partner,” he clarified, as if that made any difference at all. “Remember when I said I worked with a friend I knew from Iraq? This is her. Gina, Brooke. Brooke, Gina.” His attempt at polite introductions fell pointlessly flat, like introducing a cobra to a mongoose and expecting it to go well.
“I thought that company went out of business,” I said. And I’d assumed your soldier buddy was a man. Sexist me, I guess.
“Not exactly out of business. We’re just . . . transitioning into other things. Will you sit down, please?” He gestured to a chair, but I didn’t want to sit down. I wanted to stomp my feet and start slapping people, but since that was socially unacceptable, even under these particular circumstances, I decided against engaging in blunt-force trauma. Instead, I reluctantly perched on the edge of one of the chairs across from GI Jane. I pulled Leo’s phone from my back pocket and all but chucked it at him. He caught it deftly and sat down next to Gina. Not close to her. A full sofa cushion length away. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part, but there did not appear to be any kind of sexual connection between them. She clearly wasn’t jealous of me, at any rate.
“I do have something I need to tell you, and you’re going to be pissed, but before you get mad, let me tell you everything.” He seemed earnest enough, but that was not a good preface. Clearly no one had ever explained to Leo the concept of a good news sandwich, where you start out with something good, sneak the bad stuff into the center, then end with something good again. He was going straight to the rotten.
“When I said I worked in private security, I meant it, but the part about me being here because I’d lost that job was false. I’m still working. Gina and I are sort of like bodyguards. We do personal protection, but we also do other kinds of security stuff when the situation calls for it.”
“When the situation calls for it”? What in the name of sweet baby Jesus was he getting at? Gina fell back against the cushion, crossing her arms, crossing her legs, and letting out a fast, frustrated sigh. Clearly the disintegration of my relationship with Leo was boring her.
I really didn’t like her.
Leo continued, and the slow, calm tone he was using made me want to grab his cell phone back and pulverize it with a hammer. I am not a ragey person, but I was ten kinds of humiliated right now, and ten kinds of mad. If anyone had good cause to demolish a device, or something equally as destructive, it was me.
“What kind of security stuff are you doing right now that meant you had to lie to me?”
He glanced at Gina, then back to me. “We work for the Wellington family,” he said.
Wellington. Wellington. Why did that name sound famil . . . fuuuuuuuuck me. “As in the Marian Singer Wellington family? Marian Singer Wellington the heiress?”
He gave a single nod as he stared intently at my face, gauging my reaction.
“I don’t understand,” I said. At least not completely. “What does she have to do with anything?”
“When Mick O’Malley got released from prison, Gina and I were hired by Mrs. Wellington’s granddaughter to find her stolen jewelry. Word on the street has always been that Mick’s accomplice was sitting on it somewhere, just waiting for him to come and collect.”
All the cells inside me seemed to expand and contract in an instant, and it didn’t feel good. This was unbefuckinglievable. Leo was here because of the jewel thief?
“So, do you mean to tell me that you’re here looking for Jimmy Novak?”
He nodded again, and I all but jumped from my chair and started to pace as I tried to recall everything I’d said to Leo last night. I’d been tipsy from the drinks, but had I told him all of it? The cells expanded and contracted again as certainty gripped me. I had told him everything. Everything, right down to the spot where Dmitri had hidden his stash. I’d betrayed my friend, and now he was going to lose everything. Maybe even go to jail for continuing to sell the stolen goods. Leo had used me, and worst of all, I’d let him.
“I would have told you sooner, Brooke. Honestly,” he said, standing up and crossing over to me, “but it never occurred to me you’d have such a close personal relationship with the guy we were looking for.”
I spun on him so fast I nearly did a full three-sixty. “Oh, really? It didn’t occur to you that I have a close personal relationship with virtually every person on this island, you jackass? How did you think this was going to play out?”
The sheepish look on his face told me he hadn’t given the notion much thought, and I couldn’t decide if that was hurtful because he’d taken my feelings for granted, or hurtful because he hadn’t bothered to think it through. Either way . . . hurtful.
“Did you even want to have dinner with me that first night, or were you just looking for dirt on all my neighbors? I must have been a jackpot for you, huh? Telling you everything about the people who live here. Now it all makes sense.” And then it hit me. “Oh my God. You’re not even writing a book, are you?”
That hurt, too. A lot. Him being an aspiring author was a big part of my attraction to him. Granted, he had plenty to offer, even without the book thing, but still, I’d really liked that about him. And it was fake. He was fake. I’d fallen for yet another guy who wasn’t who he pretended to be, and suddenly I heard my mouth asking, “Are you married?”
He took a step backward as if I’d slapped him. “What? No, of course not.”
As far as silver linings went, that one was whisper-thin, but at least I hadn’t accidentally committed adultery. Again. Still, this absolutely sucked. “How could you do this to me, Leo?” I couldn’t stop the catch in my voice as anger gave way to a tsunami-size sense of betrayal. Tears puddled up in my eyes, but I blinked them back.
“Drama queen much?” Gina muttered, picking casually at a cuticle.
“Shut up, Gina,” Leo said. He turned to look at her. “Maybe you could go get another cup of coffee or something? Give us a little privacy?”
She arched a dark brow as if he’d just suggested she try eating garden slugs, which, come to think of it, was something I’d like to see.
“Yeah, no. I don’t think so, Romeo,” she said, her voice full of snarky dismissal. “First of all, you are emotionally and professionally compromised. Second of all, we can’t let this one out of our sight”—she pointed at me—“or she’ll go running straight to honeybee man and warn him. And third of all, you’ve already been on this Podunk island for well over a month. The Wellingtons aren’t paying you to hang around and fraternize with the suspects. We need to wrap this up. We need to haul ass over to Jimmy Novak’s house and get whatever is left of Marian’s jewelry before Mick gets to him. That’s what we’re here to do. That’s what we’re getting paid for. We have bills, Leo, and other clients. Chop, chop. Wrap it up.” She slapped the back of one hand against the palm of her other.
Leo’s jaw clenched, the tightly coiled spring aspect of his personality coming out. “I need fifteen minutes here, Gina. Come on. Give me a break. Give me a chance to explain this to Brooke without your wiseass commentary.”
She rolled her eyes again. “Fine, lover boy. I’m going to go stand on the porch for ten minutes. While I’m gone, don’t let her use the bathroom.”
“Why can’t she use the bathroom?”
“Jesus, Leo. Because she might climb out the window or try to text somebody. Have you forgotten all your training?”
Climb out the window? Damn it. I wish I’d thought of that. I could jump out and run all the way to Dmitri’s house. If there was any way to contact him, he could move the jewelry, and I could just say I’d made a mistake. That the jewel thief wasn’t Dmitri at all. Whoops. Sorry! But this Gina person was ruining my plans before I could even make them. Have I mentioned that I really don’t like her? I didn’t like Leo anymore, either. Not at all. In fact, my heart was currently in a state of breaking into sharp, tiny fragments, but I had to figure out this Dmitri thing before I could indulge in that bit of clusterfuckery.
Gina stepped outside and slammed the door, and Leo stared at it for a long moment before turning back to me. His shoulders drooped, and he had the decency to look remorseful—but not nearly remorseful enough. He had a sort of bad dog, I just ate from the garbage can expression, but I wasn’t buying it. This situation called for groveling, serious groveling. Not that any kind of apology would change the outcome.
“I never meant for this to happen,” he said, in the weakest sort of mea culpa.
“Really? Maybe you should have thought of that before you kissed me. It’s bad enough you pimped me for details at dinner, Leo, but all that phony seduction stuff was so beyond necessary.”
His sigh was nearly convincing. He might actually feel bad, but it didn’t matter.
“That wasn’t phony. I know you don’t have any reason to believe me, but Brooke, I want you to know, everything I said to you about us was true. I asked you out because you’re beautiful, and I wanted to kiss you because I wanted to kiss you. Because you captivated me, not because I was trying to trick information out of you.”
On the mea culpa scale, that scored a solid five, but it still certainly wasn’t enough. “I don’t believe you, and anyway, even if I did, you had to know that ultimately this situation was going to bite me in the ass. Eventually you were going to have to admit that the book stuff was a bucketful of shit, and the job stuff was all fake. There’s just no way around the fact that you’ve been lying to me.”
“I had to lie. I was undercover, but it wasn’t personal, Brooke. It’s just the job.”
Just the job? Not personal? “It feels pretty damn personal to me, Leo! And what was all that crap about going on a job interview?”
He sighed once more and gestured again to the chair. “Will you sit back down? Please?”
I did. Not because he’d asked me to but because my whole body was trembling as if the house was suddenly floating on water. Maybe the island was sinking. It sure as hell felt like it was.
Leo sat heavily on the couch. “I didn’t have an interview. I went to Florida to follow up on a couple of leads. That private investigator you talked to in the post office, by the way? Dmitri is right. It’s Mick O’Malley. Gina’s been following him for several weeks. He’s back in Michigan again now, but he can’t stay up north for very long at any given time because he has to check in with his parole officer in Orlando. In fact, he’s actually violating parole by leaving Florida, but we’re not reporting him because we need him.”
“How resourceful of you. So I guess the law is only the law when it’s convenient to you?” Nice zinger, Brooke. Heartbreak made me sassy.
He appeared chagrined by my comment. Good. I needed him to feel half as shitty as I did right now.
“We’re keeping a very close eye on him, and as soon as we’ve gotten what we need, he’ll be arrested again. Mick doesn’t have the best luck, or judgment, and he’ll be going back to jail very soon. The real question is . . . what are we going to do?”
He gazed at me expectantly, and I’m sure my gaze back said go fuck yourself, I don’t care what you do. At least I hoped that’s what he picked up from it because that was certainly what I was going for.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
He paused and leaned forward. “Brooke, Gina wasn’t wrong when she said we can’t have you going to Dmitri, but if he’s willing to turn over the jewels, like you said, this could all be over very quickly. I’m not interested in sending him to jail. Shit, I don’t even care if you never tell your father about this. I’m not the police. I’m a private contractor. I just want to collect what’s left of the Wellington family property and close this case.”
Close this case. I guess that would be good, to have this over and done with. But what then? Then Leo would go back to wherever he came from? Was he really from Chicago? Did it matter? No, because regardless, he’d be gone from Trillium Bay, and that would be that. No more dinners or drinks or decadence between the sheets. Chop, chop. Wrap it up.
Gina came back inside just as I was saying, “I won’t tell him.”
She chuckled, but there was little humor in the sound. “Not good enough, babe. You’re going to have to come with us,” she said.
“Come with you?”
“Yes, to Dmitri’s place. Right now.”
She was so rude and bossy. “I can’t right now. I have lunch plans.”
She pressed her lips together, looking at me as if I’d just said the stupidest thing ever. “Super sorry that you’re going to miss out on green tea lattes and quinoa salad with your BFFs, sweetheart, but we either have to take you with us, or we have to lock you up in a closet until this is over with.”
I’m pretty mild mannered, and thanks to thirteen years as a teacher I can take a lot of sass, but I’d officially reached my limit. This bitch was going down.
“You know what, sweetheart?” I said, rising from the chair and stepping right up to her. “I’ve had just about enough of your bad attitude. I don’t deserve it. I am a victim here, in case you haven’t noticed, dragged into this shit-show by him.” I pointed at Leo as if there were any doubt to whom I was referring. “You want to lock me in a closet? Go ahead. That’s kidnapping, and I happen to be the mayor, and my father happens to be the chief of police, so if you want me to cooperate, maybe you could quit being such a bitch.”
Yes! That felt magnificent. I should rage more often. I should rage at Leo. He was the one behind all this angst. And he was currently staring at me with wide, startled eyes. I’d obviously surprised him with my sudden outburst, so it seemed we had both underestimated me.
Gina gazed at me for a second, and I saw her lips twitch into a near-smile. It seemed I’d earned some respect, if not my freedom.
“Fair enough. My bad. Will you please take us to Dmitri’s house? Because Mick is in Michlimac City and probably heading over to the island today, and every time he comes here, we run the risk of him figuring out what he needs to figure out. The minute he realizes Jimmy Novak is hiding under a beekeeping hat, things are going to get a lot more complicated.”
My options at the moment seemed pretty nonexistent. I didn’t want Dmitri to know I’d revealed his secret to Leo, especially less than twelve hours after he’d told me, but I guess that ship had sailed. And sunk. If I led these two to him, at least they’d keep him out of jail. And better the jewels go back to the Wellington family instead of to his old accomplice. Dmitri had said Mick used a gun at his last robbery, so who knew how dangerous he might be now.
Leo rose from the sofa. “I’ll make this up to you, Brooke. I promise.”
I turned stiffly to look his way and hoped my disdain was evident. “You can’t possibly make this up to me. I’ll help you out for Dmitri’s sake, but not for yours. Now let’s get going, because I have lunch plans.”