Too damned many questions for one brain.
And let’s not forget that Deputy Almond wasn’t exactly sweet and kind to my mother. Granted, he’d intimated it was all part of the ‘plan’ to root out the real culprit, but still….
I know I complain about her, but she’s my mother. And Mother had assured me Noel’s interrogation wasn’t nearly as bad as it looked. But my natural protectiveness toward her had kicked in.
“That security guard has a crush on you.” Mother was holding a blue blouse in her left hand now and smoothing her right hand over it.”
“Who? Big Eddie? Won’t Mona be jealous?”
“Don’t be funny, Dix. I’m talking about that new fellow. Dylan.”
I pffted my drink onto my chin. “You’ve got to be kidding.” I wiped my chin with the napkin she handed me. “That new guy? Dilbert?”
“Dylan.”
Well, now I was really glad Mrs. Presley was in the kitchen. She’d have had a field day.
But my interest was piqued.
The thing about my intuition … I got it from my Mother. So it was interesting that she’d picked up on this ‘supposed’ crush. Katt Dodd had a sense about these things.
“I saw the way he was looking at you,” Mother continued. “Well, you’re just as observant about these things as I am, Dix. You must have seen it too.”
“I didn’t see him look over.”
“Of course he didn’t gawk. Not in any glaringly obvious way. But he glanced over at you. And these weren’t just glances. They held that second longer and went a little deeper. Every chance he got, too. And it wasn’t just curiosity. It wasn’t a ‘where have I seen her before’ kind of look. It was one of those rare ones, Dix. That young man had that special gleam in his eyes when he looked your way. I’ve … I’ve not seen that look in a long time. But wow, when it hits, it’s magic.”
I was dumbstruck. Almost into silence. Mother still didn’t know Dylan was with me. And yes, all the time, more and more, I was feeling guilty as hell about keeping this secret from her. But it was for her own good. Especially now that Dylan had made his way onto the premises as security. Not that Mother would tell anyone on purpose. Not that she’d let the secret slip to Mona or anyone else. Probably. But for now, for her own good, it was better to let Dylan do his work without anyone else being aware of who he really was, including my mother.
Oh crap, I’d tell her as soon as I could.
“Come on, Mother,” I fished. “I’ve got to be … what? Five years older than the new security guy?”
“I’d say more like ten, Dix. Fifteen, maybe.”
Grrrrrrrrrrrr.
“But so what?” she said. “What’s a few years when it’s right? What the heck do the years matter when people fall for each other in this world?”
If she expected an answer … well, she wouldn’t be getting one.
Because I didn’t have one right then.
“Jumping the gun aren’t you a bit?” She had no way of knowing (oh God I hoped she had no way of knowing) how … close Dylan and I had gotten. How close I’d been to jumping a … gun of my own there.
“Life’s precious, baby. Life’s short. All I’m saying is we have to go for our happiness in the world. Try it. Trust it. Grab life by the balls and don’t let go.”
With that she handed me a red silk scarf.
By the time the doorbell rang, the place smelled to the ceilings of spicy pepperoni, tomato sauce, garlic and onions galore. Yes, it was wonderful. And also by the time the doorbell rang to announce the presence of the good deputy, I was dressed to the nines.
Mother style.
Sorta.
Not in the hot pink and low cuts that mother would have chosen had she had her way. We compromised. I half picked the outfit; she totally picked the shoes. I was wearing a gorgeous silk-screened tank, partly covered by a tiny, cropped Chanel-inspired jacket with a single button closure, and a pretty beige skirt that fell — thank you, Jesus — almost to the knee. Unfortunately, the only shoes I’d brought were low-heeled black ones. Mother, however, had just the answer — strappy, high-heeled Ann Klein sandals. Pale pink (to match the dominant threads in the woven jacket) and barely there.
Without the shoes, I looked kind of hip but polished. With the shoes….
Damn, I looked hot.
“I’m overdressed, Mother,” I whined behind her as she went to open the door. Mrs. P was already standing there, waiting. Wooden spoon in hand. ‘Kiss the kook’ apron tied around her twice. “Deputy Almond simply wants to discuss the case,” I said to them both. “Nothing more. Just two professionals discussing a case. This is not a date!”
Mother opened the door.
Shit! This was a date.
Deputy Noel Almond stood framed in the open doorway. The uniform was gone. No gun. No handcuffs (fur-lined or otherwise).
But my sharp PI mind did not have to take in these details to conclude that this was a date. No, the real giveaway was the box of chocolates he handed over to Mrs. Presley and the flowers he handed over to my mother. And extra flowers and chocolates, presumably for me.
Damn, that was … charming. If I were another woman, I’d probably be swooning. But (as I reminded myself) I was hard-assed Dix Dodd. Men were trouble, and I was immune to their charms.
Yep.
Even the really tall, handsome, muscular ones bearing chocolate.
Though if it was dark chocolate truffles … I could see myself slipping.
“Good evening, ladies,” he said, walking through the doorway. “Mrs. Presley, you’re looking lovely this evening. As are you, Mrs. Dodd.” He kissed firstly Mrs. P’s hand (she wiped it on her skirt).
Then he kissed my mother’s.
“Deputy,” Mother said dryly.
If Noel Almond caught the tone of my mother’s voice, he didn’t let on.
“Yes, you ladies are all looking lovely this evening.”
Well, duh, of course we were. But if he expected a titter and giggle or some fool thing like that, well he’d picked the wrong trio.
“Especially you, Dix,” he said handing me the flowers and chocolates.
I’m not one to get flustered by compliments. I snorted a half laugh. The flowers were nice — pink and white. Not too showy but not too small. And dammit, still alive even. And the chocolates … I stole a quick look. Ahhhh, dark chocolate truffles.
Knowing my black thumb, my mother quickly took the flowers from my hands. “I’ll just put these in water for you, Dix.”
“Say, Deputy,” Mrs. P said. “Got a question for you.”
Oh shit, this couldn’t be good.
Noel smiled. “What can I help you with, Mrs. Presley?” .
“Damn crosswords! I’m stuck again. I’m looking for a four letter word….”
Nope, definitely wasn’t looking good here!
“…. useful object used in construction trade.”
Noel’s forehead knit in concentration. He folded his arms across his chest and laid a manly knuckle to his chin. Then the a-ha moment. “I think you’re looking for a tool, Mrs. P.”
She tilted an ear toward him. “A what?”
“Tool,” he repeated loudly. “I said tool.”
She nodded in satisfaction.
Noel turned toward me. “Are you ready to go, Dix? I picked out a nice little French restaurant on the boardwalk. I think you’ll like it.” He held out his arm for me to take.
Oh, come on!
Play along, Dix, I silently reminded myself. The more cozy-cozy Deputy Almond felt with me, the more I could get out of him.
I took his arm. Yep. I took his strong, toned, sexy, all-man arm.
“You two have a nice time,” Mother said, politely.