“I still haven’t located records of the Beechcraft, but this set of books was very interesting.”
“How so?”
“It’s clearly a second set of books for North Beach, and I’m betting it doesn’t match the first. Want to take that bet?”
Mel hugged her robe tighter to herself, as if she hadn’t just been butt-ass naked in his lap, panting his name as she came. “Lots of people keep two sets of books.”
“With huge deposits unaccredited to any source? Deposits that were probably never actually entered into the official set of North Beach’s books, or at least into the set the IRS saw? Deposits that add up to a staggering million dollars?”
“What?”
“All dated just before and during the years that my dad was involved with Sally. Which begs the question: if Sally is the one who got ripped off in all this, why did all of my father’s money vanish, and Sally’s bank account swell?”
She frowned, then turned her back to him.
“Oh, no you don’t.” He pulled her back around. “We’re talking about this.”
Her jaw hardened and so did her eyes. Beneath that robe she might be naked and still quivering, but on the outside she was the strong-headed, strong-willed woman she’d been from too young an age. “I’d like you to leave now.”
“You can’t ignore this, it’s not going anywhere. I’m not going anywhere-”
“Yet.”
“What does that mean?”
She licked her lips. “You’re not going anywhere yet. But you are eventually. You’re going back to your life. While mine, and everyone else’s here, will never be the same again.”
Her quiet devastation staggered him. Before he could formulate a response, she dropped her forehead to his shoulder, and surprised, he pulled her in, hugging her close for one minute before she gathered herself and stepped away. “I’d like to go through the paperwork.”
“Of course.”
“By myself,” she said.
“Mel-”
“Please.”
God, the look in her eyes slayed him.
“Myself,” she repeated.
He pulled on his shirt, then moved close, running a finger over the dark smudges beneath her eyes. She seemed exhausted, and all he wanted to do was tuck her against him and take her to bed. But she’d never allow that now and he knew it. “We need to talk about this. Soon.”
She glanced over his shoulder, back toward the couch, where the file sat. Whatever she was feeling, she kept it to herself. “Good-bye, Bo.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Good-bye,” she said again, and practically shut the door on him as she pushed him out into the night.
The next morning, Bo showed up early at the airport in hopes of catching Mel alone, but she appeared to be a no-show.
In fact, for the first time in the week since he’d been there, the coffee-donut gossip ritual at the café began without her.
Ritchie and Kellan couldn’t wait to tell everyone about their double date with twins. “They’re athletes,” Ritchie reported in awe. “Gymnasts.”
Al whistled. “Bet they’re flexible.”
“Oh yeah, we got wild, dude-” Kellan broke off at Char’s glare. His wicked smile faded. “I mean, it was tender and respectful. Very tender and respectful.”
“Enough.” Ernest gestured with his donut toward Danny. “I got a complaint. You need to stop using aerosol anything in maintenance. I found a dead araneae in there.”
“A what?” Danny asked.
“A spider! You’re killing them.”
Char sighed. “Okay, let’s talk about me. I’m cranking down the AC from 78 to 68 degrees, and I don’t care how much it costs, I’m too damn hot all the time!”
Al wisely refrained from saying a word, but he looked like he was thinking at least a few.
No one spoke of Mel’s absence.
Finally Bo had to ask. “Where’s your fearless leader?”
Char looked at Al.
Al looked at Ritchie and Kellan.
Both of whom looked at Danny.
Danny looked at Dimi.
Dimi quietly sipped her herbal tea. “Hmmm? Oh, Mel. She’s running a bit late this morning, that’s all.”
Bo would be willing to bet that Mel had never been late to anything in her entire life. Just as he’d be willing to bet she’d stayed up late going through that file he’d brought her, and was now either still formulating her response to what she’d found, or plotting his murder.
The airport began hopping with its usual morning business. Bo himself had an appointment to look at a Douglas A-24 in Los Angeles, which he reluctantly left for, but not before pulling Dimi aside. “I want to see Mel later,” he said. “Tell her I’ll only be a few hours.”
Dimi smiled at him noncommittally. Bo grated his teeth and piloted his flight to LA and back.
When he returned, Mel had come in, but was now on her own charter flight to San Francisco, forcing him to cool his heels for the rest of the day, which he spent tracking down a Piper for a customer.
Dimi kept interrupting him with phone calls-creditors, salespeople, even one person asking if they sold model airplanes.
Finally he called Dimi’s desk. “What are you doing?”
“My job,” she replied sweetly.
“Do you forward all these kinds of calls to Mel?”
“Not anymore. You’re in charge now.”
He drew a deep breath, but patience didn’t come. “I hope you’re finding it therapeutic to take your anger out on me.”
“Actually, not as much as I’d hoped.”
He sighed. “Do you really give Mel this many phone calls a day?”
“Oh, no. For her, I screen them.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you think you could screen them for me?”
“Nope,” she said with that same cheer.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t like you.”
At closing time, when Mel still hadn’t come in, Bo went to Dimi yet again.
“Oh, dear,” she said with a little smile, bracelets jangling, as she set aside a book-a book? “Didn’t I tell you? She’s going straight from San Francisco to Seattle.”
“No,” he said through his teeth. “You didn’t mention that.”
“Sorry.” But she didn’t look it. “You did ask me to screen your calls, remember?”
Bo slapped his clipboard against his leg while he considered strangling her. But though Dimi had been obnoxious today, she didn’t look smug so much as…worried. Hell. Had Mel fallen apart at that file he’d left her? “Look, did she say anything about-”
Dimi shook her head. “Not a word about anything.”
He was not going to gain an inch here, but that didn’t prevent him from trying. “Sally hasn’t called yet, has she?”
“Nope.”
Really, he might as well just bang his head against the wall. “Thanks. You’ve been a big help.”
Now her smug smile made a flashing appearance. “I try.”
The next morning when Mel woke up she did just what she had done the one before: stared at the file Bo had brought. At the thought of what was in it, she groaned and rolled to her back, and had a new thought.
Two days ago, she’d let Bo get her naked, finger her to an orgasm, and he hadn’t so much as lost his pants. As it had ever since, the memory made her by turns hot and achy, and hot and humiliated.
She had to get a grip.
Maybe the trick was simply not to look directly at him. Yeah, she’d try that. It shouldn’t be so hard now that she had something new to obsess about.
She stared at the fat file again. God, Sally, what did you do?
With a sigh, she got out of bed, showered, dressed, and drove to the airport and, as was the norm-except for yesterday, when she’d needed to be alone-she was the first to arrive. Unlocking the front door, she flipped on the lobby lights. As they flickered to life, she noticed the jar on the front desk. Curious, she moved close, then stopped short.
In it sat a big, fat, hairy, spindly spider. Skin crawling, she grabbed the note next to the jar and took a big step back, reading while the spider stared at her.