Nearly Dead in Iowa Page 14

  "Did I tell you I'm not going to make it to Bingo on Wednesday because…I have a date with Gabe."

  I watched as their gazes went wide.

  Ramona elbowed Viola. "Why didn't you tell us?"

  "I'm with Ramona," Alice added. "Why didn't you tell us, Vi?"

  "I suspected, but didn't know for sure until right now." Viola helped herself to another sweet roll.

  "Even if you knew you wouldn't have told us. How many years was it before you told us you and Doc divorced?" Dolly asked.

  "It doesn't matter now. Doc and I are ancient history." Viola sipped at her coffee and leaned back in her chair.

  I knew there was a whole lot more going on than what she was saying, but I wasn't going to step into the middle. "I need some advice on what to wear." I grabbed some over-the-counter painkillers while they were still chattering about the date. If I made a big deal out of taking meds, hovering would ensue. And I'd indulged myself enough lately. "He invited me over for a barbeque."

  "He has an amazing patio with a fire pit and everything. Very romantic. Who knows where the night might end up?" Ramona giggled.

  "I'm guessing Gabe has some ideas about that," Alice added.

  "We haven't known each other very long." And our first few encounters were more adversarial than anything else. I admit I have enjoyed our runs together—or maybe I just liked having company.

  "Haven't you ever heard of love at first sight?" Dolly asked. "For Henry and me it was immediate. We didn't waste any time getting naked either. Still miss him today."

  Did these ladies know the meaning of TMI? "It's nothing serious."

  "You were married a long time. You must have gotten used to a certain level of intimacy, I imagine," Alice probed.

  I wanted to cover my ears and run screaming from the room. "Joseph and I were…well…it's kind of hard to explain…" I drew in a breath as I struggled to understand my own marriage. "We came from similar worlds." Or so I thought until my mother died and any money I'd had evaporated pretty quickly between debts and funeral expenses for my mother. I wasn't going to share with these women my naiveté that had led to the ill-timed prenup and everything else. It didn't matter anymore. I'd long since outgrown the hurt and fear of his abandonment.

  "In other words, there was no spark between the two of you," Ramona said.

  "You might say that. We had different ideas of what marriage meant. My mom, Amanda Lewis, was well known in society circles." Bittersweet memories enveloped me for a second or two. "She introduced Joseph to some of her friends who were wealthy real estate investors. Prior to that, he'd been scrounging for business." Saying it out loud made the issue plain and simple. He'd used me, built his fortune, and then quickly hooked up with the next opportunity that came his way. When my mom died, there was nothing tethering him to me or vice versa. I didn't know until after she died she'd been in hock up to her eyeballs mortgaging everything she'd owned.

  "Just as well you got rid of the loser," Dolly added.

  I chuckled. Being able to find the humor in my circumstances felt freeing. Instead of thinking about poor me, I'd come full circle in Inez, or maybe I was full circle when I'd arrived, but hadn't realized it yet.

  "You're right. I was much too good for him." It had taken me a while to reach that conclusion, but now the idea rolled off my tongue easily without so much as a second thought. Despite all the drama I'd endured, Inez had been good for confirming my recovery from my old life. That didn't mean I'd stay here forever, but it was a nice reprieve to collect my thoughts and expand my worldview—such as it was in the middle of Nowhere, Iowa.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Despite my week being consumed by preparing for the art show and the fact that I'd kept a low profile claiming a headache, that didn't stop the Qs from spouting theories of who might have killed Stan. But besides all that, my date with Gabe had kept them busy in the down times. Going through my wardrobe like they were stylists to the rich and famous, they'd finally agreed on what I should wear. By the production value alone you would have thought we were preparing for a wedding at the Royal Palace.

  But I didn't mind too much as it kept them out of trouble. I ended up wearing a pair of comfy jeans and a red sweater. I didn't want to overdress or give him any ideas about what might happen tonight—not that I had any notion he was thinking anything like that. Then again, he was a man. I need say no more.

  By Wednesday around five, I was tired of thinking about it. After kindly asking the Qs not to call, text, or snoop in the windows, I walked over with a turtle cheesecake in one hand and two bottles of wine in the other and knocked on the door. While I didn't intend to overindulge, polishing off a bottle of wine was easy to do over the course of an evening—at least that's what I told myself when I'd opted to bring the second bottle.

  He opened the door, looking sexy in a pair of worn-in jeans and a navy Henley-style shirt. Koko Taylor sang in the background as I walked inside. The living room, flanked by windows and coved ceilings and a honed marble fireplace, showcased Gabe's attention to detail.

  To my surprise, he gave me a light kiss on the mouth, making it feel like a date. Or maybe that's what he wanted me to believe so he could start probing me for answers later. Or maybe I was overthinking the whole thing. It appeared my propensity toward over-sharing had morphed into overthinking as well.

  "How's the head?" He placed his hands on my shoulders.

  "Not bad. I only pass out a couple of times a day." I gave him a cheeky smile.

  "As long as you stay awake while you're here, I'm good."

  "I'm shocked the ladies didn't strong-arm me into bringing them with tonight so they could hover around me."

  "The date would have been a little crowded, don't you think?"

  "Not to their way of thinking. They think they should know every detail of what goes on in my life. They're recreating their youth through me."

  "Welcome to my life. You have no idea how having you around keeps the pressure off me." He laughed before leading me through to the kitchen.

  Awestruck. That's the only word I could think of as I walked into the room. Beautifully detailed cherry cabinets with a dark-glazed finish reached almost to the ceiling. A massive freestanding island stood between two walls of cabinets and was adorned with a gray-veined marble top. Tobacco-colored leather stools aligned the counter.

  He opened up the wine bottle and poured us both a glass. He handed one to me and snagged two bottles of water. "Do you want to come outside while I start the grill? I'll get the fire pit going to give us some heat."

  I took a sip of wine before we headed outside. "Sounds really good." I tried not to be such a pushover, but I was feeling relaxed and on top of my game. I knew he had an agenda and he knew I had an agenda, so everything was cool and clean between us. Okay, based on the way he was looking at me, he might have another agenda as well, but I could live with that—at least in theory.

  I felt a sense of peace slide through me. He had the music inside hooked into speakers on the outside as well so Koko Taylor had turned into Shemekia Copeland. The bluesy music of the women seemed to be the perfect backdrop for a date.

  The fire started with a whoosh as embers floated into the air. If I were prone to romantic settings, this would be one to write home about. I settled into a cushioned-covered seat by the fire while Gabe fiddled with the grill and drank from the water bottle rather than the wine glass. Once he finished, he set the bottle of wine on the table between us and sat in the other half of the double chaise lounge. His fingers touched mine and immediately they became intertwined.

  "With all the excitement, and the ladies hovering over you all week, you never did tell me how the Gilded Lily thing went."

  "A beautiful museum, an eclectic mix of people, and a little drama convinced me there's no such thing as a sleepy little town."

  "What happened?"

  "You mean Nate didn't tell you?"

  "Nope. He's pretty strict about following rules."

&nbs
p; So I did what I did best, ignore the obvious and circumvent the question. "Have you heard of Dr. Hunter? He's some kind of big shot doctor in Iowa City."

  His eyebrow scrunched before he answered. "Everybody has. He likes to make sure his reputation is spread far and wide. I did some restoration work at his house, but he wasn't around much. Why? Is he interested in some of your paintings? Or did he make a pass at you?"

  "Something like that." I charged ahead. "Did you ever meet him?" I had no idea where I was going with this line of questioning, but figured the more I knew about Dr. Hunter the better off I'd be.

  "Once in passing. Based on the fact he tried to pressure me into doing a lot more work than I'd been contracted for, I thought he was a jerk."

  "What is it that you do again? I don't think you ever told me." I had an opportunity to probe and had every intention of going full speed ahead with that idea. Besides, my life had been dissected and probed until I wanted to run for cover. Turnabout was fair play in my book.

  "Historic restoration. I keep busy with that, and working my own hours gives me a lot of flexibility."

  "Have you always done restoration type work?"

  "You referring to the whole college thing?" When I nodded, he continued but didn't look me in the eye. "I was a lawyer for a while."

  "And you gave it up?" I probably sounded a little naïve and pushy, but I'd developed a newfound penchant for curiosity. While Viola had hinted something had happened in Gabe's past, she'd said nothing specific. Now was my chance to find out, and I jumped on the opportunity. I needed something to keep me from obsessing about dead bodies and other mysterious things that went bump in the night.

  "Yep." Instead of elaborating like I'd hoped he graced me with a one-word answer. I knew avoidance when I saw it.

  Darn it all. I should have figured he'd be as elusive as me. But that didn't mean I wasn't thinking of a way to gain the information I craved. Sooner or later, he'd tell me, or I'd find some other way of getting it.

  Changing the direction seemed to be the best course of action for the moment. "How about Dr. Hunter's wife? What is she like?"

  He barked a laugh. "Interesting woman. She liked to walk around half naked while I was there."

  "She propositioned you?" I wanted to get a read on the woman and the doctor, and confirming that having affairs were included in their definition of marriage seemed a good way to go.

  "Not directly. I think she was waiting for me to make the first move. Which never happened, by the way."

  I shrugged. "You don't need to share information about your love life with me."

  "That's good because I don't intend to." He chuckled and moved closer.

  He stared at my lips and leaned toward me. I leaned closer. He was going to kiss me. And part of me wanted him to. Really, really wanted him to. But fear had me pulling back and settling into my seat.

  "Where did you get these mad skills? Your house is amazing, with an equally amazing outside. Your grandfather's a doctor. The ladies in the neighborhood think I should jump all over the Gabe train." I needed to get some perspective, but my quick pulse said otherwise.

  Yeah, he totally wooed me with that snarky attitude of his.

  He bit off a chuckle. "Did the ladies warn you about me?"

  I bit my lip. "Another glass of wine and I might tell you what they said. For now, let's just say they're fans." I gulped back the rest of the wine and felt the heat slide through. This stuff was good. I'd confiscated it from Joseph's prized collection. I doubt he'd miss the dozen bottles I'd taken from his two-thousand-bottle collection. I giggled thinking if Joseph could see me now, he'd be furious. That thought made me happy.

  "I guess I'm flattered in a gross kind of way." He clinked his water bottle with my wine glass. "How do you feel about Inez so far? Do you think you'll stay?"

  "I'm not sure yet. I suppose if Nate has his way, I'll need to stick around to visit my father in jail." I gulped back the remainder in my glass, which he refilled immediately. He might be trying to get me tipsy, but I didn't seem to care. But I should, since he hadn't even touched his glass.

  "Nate comes across as a hard ass sometimes, but he's good at his job. I'll admit he's one of those half-empty kind of guys, but his record is solid."

  "There can't be that much crime in Inez, or the county for that matter." I started to wonder if he looked too hard because of his FBI training and overlooked the small stuff. From my way of thinking, I was finding all manner of clues that led me to other places rather than my father who still may or may not be dead. Then again, he didn't need to make me privy to all his clues either.

  "He does get called in on cases across the state because of his expertise. His reputation is solid in terms of his investigative skills."

  "Are you president of his fan club or something?" Irritation wove through me despite the fact I'd suspected they were tight from the first time I'd met them.

  "Just asking you to give the guy a break and let him do his job." His mouth lines got a little tight around the edges.

  "Is that why you invited me here?" Yes, my back was up about the whole thing. Maybe it was a combination of things. But questioning his motivation was important to me. I needed to know his agenda, and I wasn't going to let him think he'd pulled one over on me. Been there. Done that. Not going back.

  "I invited you here because I like you. I thought we'd had a bonding moment on the trail a couple of times that I'd hope to capitalize on to forge some kind of a thing between us." He gave me a grin that relaxed me at least a fraction. "Don't look for ulterior motives where there aren't any."

  As if to solidify his point he reached over and planted a kiss on my lips. I'd be the first one to admit I enjoyed the bit of normalcy between us. He was attracted to me. I was attracted to him. Nothing wrong with a little making out with a hot guy as far as I was concerned.

  "Sorry. I guess I'm a little sensitive."

  "Let's change the subject," he suggested.

  "Sounds like a plan." It was easy to agree when the smell from the steaks wafted my way. As much as I loved the ladies, they weren't red meat eaters. Not that I complained when I gobbled down the breakfast yummies they'd offered to me.

  * * *

  We were having a good time—laughing, talking, drinking, kissing—and then suddenly we weren't.

  "You're probing. Don't even try to deny it. Everything you've said tonight is about finding out what I'm up to." We'd finished dinner and had opened up that second bottle of wine. Probably a bad idea since I was definitely a lightweight when it came to drinking and I seemed to be imbibing at least twice as much as him. In fact, I wasn't even sure he even took a sip. Had I finished nearly the whole bottle by myself?

  "Maybe because you're putting yourself in danger. And by way of association, my grandmother as well."

  His words burned through me, and guilt followed. "What I do is my business, not yours or anyone else's. Nothing you can say will stop me from looking for my father." Why couldn't he understand? He had to have lost his father, or his grandparents wouldn't have raised him. He should know how that felt.

  "How are you going to feel if something happens to Vi or one of the others?" He asked the question that had been circling my thoughts since I'd joined up with the posse of seniors. As much as I tried to keep their exuberance at bay, they seemed to slip through the cracks of my resistance. They couldn't or wouldn't be deterred, and there was nothing I could do to stop them.

  "Don't try to lay that guilt trip on me. I do what I can to keep them away from harm. If I think there might be trouble, I go it alone."

  "Like the fair?" His lips curled in a sneer. Clearly, he hadn't forgiven me for potentially putting his grandmother and the others at risk.

  "I can't control your grandmother or any of her friends. Why don't you put some of that anger back on her instead of me? She's an adult. She doesn't need your or anyone else's coddling." Okay, that was kind of mean, and I really didn't want him to do that, but dang, I was feeling
beat up about now.

  "You're right. I can't control my grandmother, but I'm expecting you to be the voice of reason with that group. Apparently I underestimated your desire to follow this trail to the end and ignore the potential consequences."

  "I'm not sure what you mean." I tried to sit up in the chaise, but getting leverage without his help seemed next to impossible. Pride forced me to vacate the chair and nearly topple over at the same time. Luckily the retaining wall he'd built around the patio gave me something to grasp before I face-planted on the bricks.

  Just what I needed: another injury to add to the long list of ones I was already sporting.

  I glanced at my phone and realized it was after twelve. Had I really been drinking and talking to him all this time? I wanted to flounce out with an air of dignity but suspected it might be more like an air of carelessness as I moved toward the back of the house.

  "Let me walk you home."

  I glared at him. "You can't be serious." His overprotectiveness rubbed me the wrong way. I understood Viola's resistance to his heavy-handedness. Something about a man thinking they knew better than I did sent my hackles on edge.

  "It's not because you're a woman."

  I barked out a laugh. "Yeah riiiiiight."

  "It's because there's somebody gunning for you—excuse the expression. If there were somebody gunning for me, I'd be cautious."

  "And you're saying I'm not, is that it?"

  "I'm saying you're pissed at me for saying the truth. Your father wasn't such a great guy. That's the unvarnished truth. Does that mean he killed Stan?" He shook his head. "Does that mean he might have…maybe? Does that mean he might know who did? A definite possibility, which explains why he's laying low."

  "Or maybe he's dead. Did you ever think of that?"

  To my amazement he chuckled. "I've seen your father get out of more scrapes than a cat with nine lives. Somehow he comes out unscathed. So no, I don't believe he's dead. I think he knows who killed Stan or he was part of how it happened."