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"So I grabbed the champagne and threw the ice bucket over his head to put him out."
"Good thinking. Very brave."
"I know, right?" I heaved a breath and smoothed my damp dress with my free hand. "He didn't seem too thrilled, so I just ran."
Lily pointed with her index finger. "With the champagne?"
My shoulders slumped as I looked down, spying the bottle and the dead wire I pulled from my bosom, which it was wrapped around. "I forgot I was holding it." I also forgot that I was sticking David with the bill, but my date was a millionaire; and really, it would be the worst date story he could ever tell, which made it worth it. Plus, we hadn't even ordered before he caught fire. He would totally get sympathy dates after this. He might even catch a nurse. A fertile one.
"That's a good vintage," Lily decided, peering at the label. "Dom Perignon. Nice. Want me to get you a glass?"
"No. It's still corked. We should have it when the baby is born."
"Frickin' A! I love a silver lining."
"Can I cry now?"
"Sure. Why not? And maybe we should call the hospital and see what happened to your date?"
"He's not burned, just damp... and pissed... and a little bald."
"A little?"
I slumped onto the couch after Lily guided me to it with a little push. I thought about my last sight of David, drenched and hairless. "Completely bald. Maybe a little crispy."
"Worst dating story ever."
"Thank you." My stomach gave a rumble. "I'm hungry. We didn't even get dinner. Probably a good thing. David wanted to order rare steak."
Lily reached for the sheaf of takeout menus she kept under the coffee table. "Yuck. What are you in the mood for?"
"Is it bad if I say barbecue?" I winced, but my mouth watered all the same.
"Creepy munchies, Lexi. Remind me to never watch Silence of the Lambs with you."
"I can't eat lamb. They're too cute."
"But the smell of burning head puts you in the mood for a little barbecue?"
Hearing her put it that way, I had to admit she had a point. "Let's order pizza. Vegetarian," I suggested and Lily resisted a laugh.
~
I left the champagne with Lily. After all, the less reminders of David Markham, the better. "Great date," snorted Flaherty when I called him back after checking my phone and finding two voicemails and three texts asking me to get in touch. In my haste to leave, I forgot about him listening in nearby. I mentally thanked the heavens and stars I disconnected my wire before I got to Lily's.
"The best," I agreed. "So glad you could make it."
"You should have seen your date after you left. A catastrophe. A freakin' catastrophe!"
"Want to rub it in some more?"
"Like salve on a wound?" asked Flaherty with a snigger.
I winced. "Do you have to tell Solomon?"
"You can."
I thought about it, how mortifying it would be. "No, that's okay. You do it. Hey, how much did you record?" My heart thumped in the silence as I waited for his answer.
"Everything." With a peal of laughter, Flaherty hung up, before I even got a chance to ask if David was okay.
The aftermath, being alone again, and the enormous feeling of being let down, reminded me of the time right after I was attacked by Somper the Stomper, a psychotic soldier and murderer behind a drug smuggling ring. I'd just gotten home from the hospital for a short time when my door buzzer rang one night, only weeks ago.
I let Solomon in and we talked for more than an hour, sitting cozily on my couch like old friends, like lovers, and not at all like colleagues. He held both my hands in his and told me he loved me, but couldn't be with me right now, not while we both needed to get our heads straight. I knew he was right - I needed time to get over Maddox and make sense of what happened: whether Montgomery's hottest detective betrayed me or told me the truth about being undercover while kissing his undercover partner. It still choked me a little to hear Solomon lay out our current situation, sensibly and plain. He didn't explain what he needed to get his head straight about, and I was too choked up to ask or listen, the emotions of the past weeks finally registering. I certainly wasn't ready for the declaration of undying love that part of me wanted to hear from Solomon, but it was an amazing declaration nonetheless. And one I would never forget.
It wasn't until later, after Solomon left, when I was all sore and alone, that I realized I didn't tell him I loved him too. Truth was, I didn't know, so I said nothing. And I still didn't know how I felt. So, he was absolutely right that I needed to get my head straight.
One thing was undeniable though. I was butt-ugly jealous of the beautiful woman who answered his door; and that alone told me one thing: that I wasn't over Solomon at all.
Chapter Six
I would rather have slunk into work unobtrusively, but someone helpfully left a copy of the Montgomery Gazette on my desk. The headline read GREAT HAIRBALLS OF FIRE.
"Jeez," I muttered, tossing it to one side as I imagined the Chics reading the article over breakfast at their new apartment. "News travels fast."
"Heard you had a hot date last night," sniggered Fletcher as he walked by, a thick brown file in his hand. I stuck my tongue out at him. Okay, sticking my tongue out wasn't the smartest thing to do, but it gave me a brief surge of satisfaction. So I did it again when he passed by me again, this time fileless. He ignored me as he knocked on Solomon's door and stuck his head into the small office. I didn't catch what he said, but a moment later, Fletcher was out the door, grabbing his jacket and camera from where it lay atop his desk. "Later, hot stuff," he said, clicking his fingers at me.
Pulling my laptop from my shoulder bag, I leaned back onto one of the leather desk chairs Solomon finally furnished the office with. I began powering the machine up so I could write my report of last night's events. Before I could even enter my password, Solomon called my name. This may or may not have been a good thing, because so far the only thing I decided to write was "Oops."
"How you doing?" asked Solomon as I entered. He signaled for me to close the door behind me. I didn't think I was about to get fired for… well, setting someone on fire, given that Solomon usually liked the door closed during private meetings. He didn't mind whether the lights were on or off though. Wink-wink.
"David Markham was discharged from the hospital this morning," he told me. "Minor burns, but nothing too serious. He won't need surgery."
I let out the breath I was holding in. "That's good news."
Solomon gave me a skeptical look and I sucked the breath back in, waiting for whatever else he had to tell me. "That's the good news," he confirmed. "The bad news is David Markham's not our guy."
"I guess it was too much to hope we would be looking for a bald, angry thief in the near future." Solomon clearly struggled not to give me an eye roll, so I blustered on, latching onto the key point he just revealed. "Hey, how do you know he's not our guy?"
"There was a theft last night while Markham was getting treatment at the hospital. A big jewelry haul. I haven't seen the itemized list or photographs yet, but Maddox said it amounted to around a hundred thousand dollars."
"Wow."
"There's more bad news. We checked on the victim's recent dates and they included each of the three remaining suspects. There're a few others, but these are the only ones she has in common with all the other victims, so I'd say we're on the right track."
I brightened. I wouldn't have to date David again. My fertility was safe. Phew! "That sounds like good news!"
"It gets worse."
"It would, wouldn't it?" I sighed. I leaned against the doorjamb and waited for whatever bad news Solomon was going to unleash. Couldn't he just give me a list to peruse in my own time? Like over cocktails.
"Markham could press charges for assault."
I gasped. "Who assaulted him?"
Solomon gave me a pointed look. His nostrils flared and he nipped the corner of his bottom lip. Mmmm. "You."
/> Wait. What? "Oh yeah. No. Wait. I did not! If anything, he should sue the manufacturers of his hair product. Nothing so flammable should be allowed near an open flame. What a doofus! Is he really going to press charges? I'm so not going on a second date with him now! It's over. Um, can you tell him that? Please."
"You won't have to since he's in the clear now. Don't worry about the charges. I doubt they'll stick. Between MPD, Million Matches, and me, we'll make them go away."
"Thank you." I slumped in my seat and took a moment to admire my hot pink nail polish. No chips. I decided to take it as a sign that today would be awesome. Well, after this hiccup, it would be. "You know Maddox and Blake were at the gallery last night?" I asked, dropping the information casually.
"I heard the conversation on Flaherty's audio tape."
Of course he did. I struggled to remember if I said anything embarrassing. There was that bit about dating Blake, so... probably. "I thought we were doing this investigation low key. If MPD keep turning up on my dates, the suspect might get suspicious. I think the fewer eyeballs, the better."
"I agree. I didn't like the idea that they were going to be there."
"So... it was prearranged? Thanks for telling me." Thanks oodles. If there was anything I hated, it was being kept in the dark. Especially when it came to Maddox, work, dating, Solomon, oh, everything really. I was nosy and it was one of my best qualities.
"It was a last minute decision," Solomon told me, looking entirely nonplussed.
"Huh." I snorted. Clearly, I wasn't party to the last minute decision, even if I were lead investigator, so I'd better up my game and make sure I didn't get left out again. There was no time for hurt feelings. I looked great and I had a thief to catch! Shame I was unlikely to close the deal before dinner with my family later. Shame. They would have been thrilled. "So, what's next?"
"Like I said, the suspect pool is down to three. You have a date with suspect number two for lunch."
"Lunch? On a first date?"
"It was the agency's idea. They thought it would be..." Solomon paused.
"What? Nice? Relaxed? Pleasant?" I prompted.
"Safer," decided Solomon.
Charming.
"Apparently, Lord Justin Camberwell likes dresses so... do your thing. Don't look hot, look..."
"Safe?" I huffed.
"Sweet."
"I can do sweet. It's my third best look."
"Dare I ask what your first two are?"
I smiled. "Since you ask. Smokin' hot and hot." That earned a smile out of Solomon, and for a moment, we just looked at each other. I thought Solomon might say something, something about us; then he turned away, the moment vanished, and I realized I was officially dismissed as his attention turned to the open file on his desk.
"Want me to wire up?" I asked, rising from my chair.
"Yes. I'll be in range," he told me, passing me a sheet of paper without looking up. "Details here. Don't be late."
"Am I ever? Don't answer that."
My cell phone rang as I returned to my desk, with my sister-in-law's name flashing on the screen. "Hey, Alice. How's life?" I asked, happy to hear from her. Luck had given me two great sisters-in-law, one not-so-great ex-sister-in-law, one future-sister-in-law-slash-BFF, and that was notwithstanding my brothers-in-law. Oh heck, this family was getting complicated. I wondered if we were close to being the biggest family in Montgomery yet, and if there was a prize.
"I heard you set a guy on fire," she gushed. Alice was a nurse at Montgomery General, so it wasn't exactly surprising that she knew. It would be just my luck that she was working ER last night and caught David as a patient. Not that she confirmed it, nor did I ask. "What did he do?" she wanted to know.
"Nothing! We were on a date."
"Huh. No wonder you're single. Hey, did he try to feel you up?"
"No!"
"I couldn't think of any other reason why you'd set him on fire."
"Ugh! Is this why you called?"
"Nope. Your mom was just here and she said to remind you about dinner later. The whole family is going."
"I'll be there. She sent a text this morning. Who taught her how to text? I thought we all agreed that would be a bad idea. What's for dinner?"
"Don't know, but your mom suggested flambé for dessert," said Alice, laughing as she hung up.
"Ha-ha," I said, pulling a face at the screen.
"Hey, Lexi..." said Lucas, behind me. I whipped around in my chair to face his uncharacteristically tidy desk, situated right behind mine. His desk, however, was twice the size and had an array of monitors. A large box sat on the floor beside it, serving as a reminder that our resident geek and cyber expert was moving to the floor upstairs, where Solomon was expanding the agency. Every time I thought about it, I felt put out that I wasn't in the know. I wondered if Fletcher, Flaherty, and Delgado felt the same, or if they did know. I couldn't ask them without showing I knew nothing. Damn it.
"Yes," I said, pre-empting him, "yes, I was on a date as part of a case and a man's hair caught on fire, but it was an accident. An accident!" My voice ended on an hysterical note and my lower jaw quivered. Though that could have been caused by sugar withdrawal, thanks to my current healthy eating phase, last night's pizza excluded.
"I only wanted to know if you wanted a coffee because I'm going to get one, but... really?" Lucas peered at me, and whispered, "On fire?"
I made a strangled noise and turned away. A moment later, I looked over my shoulder and said in my meekest voice, "Yes, please. Two sugars."
An hour, one coffee, and one filed report that didn't tell Solomon anything he didn't already know, later, and I was out of there. As I jogged down the steps to the underground garage, I wondered what it would be like to meet a real live English lord. Would I have to call him “Lord”? I could see that getting old really fast. I was pretty certain I didn't have to curtsy, but the rules around that one confused me. Plus, this country was a republic so... in his face! I thought about my experiences of Englishmen and aristocracy, while realizing that all my knowledge came from Downton Abbey, which probably didn’t help.
Arriving at the parking garage, I ignored my VW and headed straight for the Ferrari. After all, it was there to give a good impression — one that said “wealthy, please steal from me” — and there was a good chance Lord Camberwell might see me arrive at the restaurant, so my little car would just not cut it. Plus, the Ferrari was awesome to drive.
I slipped behind the wheel and took a moment to smell the delicious leather interior, while stroking the wheel. "My baby," I cooed at it. "Mommy loves you so much already." With a throaty purr, the engine fired up and I reversed on a curve, throwing it into drive and accelerating towards the exit.
There was no need to head to the Chilton house — that would only become a necessity if I were being picked up or returned "home," or if I invited someone back. There was no way I would invite a stranger and potential thief "home" for "coffee" until I was sure they were going to try something more exciting and illegal than putting the moves on me. Instead, I headed to my real home, parking the Ferrari in my usual spot next to Lily's Mini.
After unlocking the communal front door, I found it only opened a fraction of the way so I had to suck it in, bump it, and edge through sideways, only to be confronted with a stack of packing boxes. An attractive man made his way down the stairs, another box in hand, which he stacked on top of the rest.
"Hi," I said, sizing up the stranger and wondering who he was. Were most movers this cute? "Who are you?"
He gave me an equally puzzled look. "Jake. I live upstairs."
"Upstairs, upstairs?" I pointed upstairs, just to clarify. Also: where? The apartment above me had been empty since the last tenant left ages ago.
"Yup. Third floor."
"Huh." Perhaps it hadn't been so empty. Strange. I never heard a thing. "Have you lived here long?" I checked his feet. Big feet.
"Two months. You?"
Huge feet. Wow. Dainty
walker. "Years."
"Well, great to meet you. I'm moving out, so I guess this is goodbye."
"I assumed so. I'd throw you a party, but that would be weird."
"See ya," said Jake, my new and now ex-neighbor. I waited until I heard him reach the top of the stairs before knocking on Lily's door.
"Did you know we had an upstairs neighbor?" I asked.
"Sure. Jake. He's such a nice guy."
"He's lived here two months and you never once mentioned him! I thought the apartment upstairs was empty."