Yours for the Night (15 page)

“You have a gun?” her mother asked, shocked.

“It’s not your sister who’s putting herself in front of bullets or being assaulted,” Nick said before she could respond to her mother, glaring at Garrett.

“Actually, Garrett and his brothers spend their time in dangerous situations all the time. They’re bodyguards, so shows how much you know, Nick. Anyway, this isn’t up for a vote. I like it. I think I could be good at it. It’s what I really, really want to do, and I was hoping you would be supportive of that,” she said, almost pleading. “I’ll be stopping my work at the store to do this full-time, once we’re past the holidays. I know you need the extra help there right now.”

Tiffany didn’t often rock the boat with her family, but it was as good of a compromise as she could offer. This time, she had to make them see that being a P.I. was her calling. She felt it in her bones, and as she told them, all doubt faded away. It was another step in her taking-
the-bull-by-the-horns lifestyle.

“Honey, we’re all just worried. This is very new, and you were hurt, and you are talking about dealing with some dangerous people,” her mother said, breeching the gap. “It doesn’t mean we don’t want to support you, but we also don’t want anything happening to you.”

“Bad things happen to people every day, Mom. We never know what’s going to take place on any given day. Maybe, if I learn to do this job well, I can help a few less bad things happen in the world, you know? And learning to protect myself is part of the bargain. I won’t always have my own personal bodyguard,” she said with a grin, but as she realized the truth of her words, it stung a little.

“But can’t you…look into cases on the side, and still work at the store, where things are more stable?” her mom asked.

“I know it’s a risk, but I need to do it. I need to put one hundred percent of my time into this if I want to be good at it and really make a go of it. I can’t do it part-time. In fact, if I had been training more regularly, I might not have had such a struggle in that alley last night.”

“Alley?” Ruby said, her tone rising several notes.

“Um, yeah. But, anyway. That’s most of it. I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure, and I am. I have to do this.”

They all continued to stare, making her wonder if she was talking gibberish. Even Garrett was looking at her, his brow furrowed in concentration, as if trying to absorb what she’d said.

“I think it’s wonderful,” her younger sister Jewel finally spoke up, coming forward with a hug. “I can’t wait to tell my friends that my big sister is a private investigator.”

Tiffany laughed. “Thanks.”

“Okay, for today, it’s a holiday,” her mother said, clearly wanting to set this aside for later, and Tiffany was fine with that, having said her piece. “Dinner will be ready at four, and until then, there is a lunch buffet in the kitchen, a boccie game in progress in the backyard and the parade running, so let’s just enjoy Thanksgiving,” she said. “And be thankful that Tiffany is safe, and that she’s found a career she’s obviously excited about.”

Tiffany felt her eyes sting slightly at her mother’s approval.

“Thanks, Mom.”

Everyone seemed more than willing to return to the normal holiday groove, and Tiffany collapsed back into the sofa. She was glad to have revealed her secret, but wondering how it would all pan out.

“You okay?” Garrett asked.

“Yeah. I guess. Though the pressure is on now, isn’t it? If I fail at this—”

“You won’t,” he said, slanting a slight smile in her direction, but he didn’t touch her again.

She hated that.

“It was brave to tell them all, and the right thing to do,” he added.

“Thanks. And thanks for backing me up.”

“I only spoke the truth. So what now?”

“I beat you in boccie and then we eat way too much?” she suggested.

“Sounds like a plan,” he said.

Tiffany was still picking up a strange vibe from Garrett, and noticed that while they joined her family in fun and games out in the yard, and he sat next to her at dinner, he barely touched her, and when he did, only in the most casual of ways. She planned to ask him about it later, when they were in private.

Maybe he was just being discreet around her family, but they were an affectionate bunch, and after they had caught them making out in the jewelry store, Tiffany figured they knew the score.

It was something else, but she didn’t want to pry. As they enjoyed the day, and stuffed themselves with her mother’s amazing food, she let it be.

For now.

11

G
ARRET
HAD
THOROUGHLY
enjoyed the day; Tiffany’s family was wonderful, but by the end of it, he needed some time alone.

He needed to think and to sort out what he was feeling. When he asked Tiffany to drop him back at his hotel—bag of Thanksgiving leftovers that her mother had packed for him, and all—he should have explained to her why. She’d asked him if anything was wrong, but he wasn’t even sure what to say, so instead he just kissed her and tried not to let his body’s demands take over. He couldn’t get enough of her, and that was part of the problem.

Moreover, shortly before waking up that morning, Tiffany curled sweetly into his side, and it occurred to him it was the first time in six years he hadn’t set aside the day Lainey died. He usually spent it alone, remembering their time together. In fact, he hadn’t thought of her at all in the past few days with Tiffany.

He’d spent the morning of the anniversary of his late wife’s death with Tiffany at the shore, and then going home to make love to her.

Always the anniversary of her death had been a day that marked the years passing more for him than any other holiday or anniversary, but this year, his mind had been elsewhere.

All of his focus had been on Tiffany, who smiled at him even as her eyes were full of questions—and maybe a little hurt—as she parked in front of the hotel.

Tiffany, whom he had known less than a full week.

Who made love like a goddess, and who had a decent left cross.

Who had been bruised in a scuffle in an alley less than twenty-four hours before. What if he hadn’t been there? What if both men had come at her?

The thought froze him to the marrow.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” she asked as he hesitated before getting out of the car. He swallowed hard, looking at her, emotions a tangle inside.

“You.”

She smiled. “Oh. Want me to park the car and come up?”

Garrett wanted nothing more, but…

How could he fall this hard for someone he’d known less than a week, and for someone with whom he had no future unless he uprooted his life, or she uprooted hers? Someone who was going to be putting her life in danger on a regular basis?

And maybe that was the root of it—could he be with her and not fear every single moment going through what he’d been through with Lainey?

It wasn’t a decision that he could make based on a short-term affair.

“I was just thinking about how well your family took the news. And how things could have gone much, much worse.”

She nodded slowly. “Guess I’d better get on those self-defense lessons,” she said with a smile.

He didn’t respond. What he wanted to tell her was to find a different profession. Something safe, where she didn’t need weapons or self-defense, or end up in alleys or pool halls in shady sides of town.

He wanted to at least explore the option of having more with Tiffany, but he couldn’t do that, not if she was putting herself in danger every day.

He couldn’t lose her like he’d lost Lainey. He couldn’t go through that again. It wasn’t fair, and it didn’t qualify him as an enlightened male, but the fear in his gut dictated his common sense. He wouldn’t always be there to protect her.

“What’s this about? What’s going on? Is this just because you’re worried about what happened last night?” she pushed, clued into his mood.

“No.... Yes, in part. I remembered this morning, that this was the first time I’d forgotten. About my late wife, the anniversary of her death.”

Garrett was unable to get a fix on his feelings or thoughts. He didn’t know how to deal with this. He’d always lived his life in a straight line. College, work, marriage, starting the business. Losing Lainey had thrown him a curve, but he’d thought that he had gotten back on his feet.

Tiffany had him thinking in circles.

“Oh. Oh, my God,” she said on a hushed tone. “I’m so sorry. But that has to be a natural thing, a progression. You shouldn’t feel guilty—”

“I don’t feel guilty, which is part of the problem,” he said, trying to express what was going on inside, and doing a poor job of it.

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t know. Just…” He shook his head, unable to find words to express it all.

She put a hand on his arm. “I get it. You lost your wife this week, six years ago. You feel responsible for that, in part, not being able to save her, and you’re transferring those feelings to me, after what happened in the alley last night,” she said, carefully measuring her words. “But I’m not her.”

“I know that,” he said, not wanting her to think that he was thinking about his late wife when he was with her. When he was with Tiffany, he didn’t think about anything else. She was everything he needed.

In the stretch of silence, she nodded stiffly.

“I am tired, actually. It’s probably not a bad idea for us to rest up tonight,” she said softly.

Garrett knew something had changed, shifted between them. He’d messed up somewhere, but he wasn’t sure how to fix it. Being married, and then out of commission for a long while, had left him out of practice on how to handle the more complex parts of a relationship.

Everything with Lainey had been easy because he hadn’t known anything back then. They’d learned together. Additionally, he hadn’t seen all of the things that he now knew were out in the world, things he saw as a bodyguard. He hadn’t known what it was like to lose someone he loved.

Now he knew, and it changed everything.

“Okay,” he said, leaning over to give her a long, soft kiss. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

She nodded, sort of, but didn’t answer. He wanted to kiss her until they both forgot all of the problems and complications, and could lose themselves in each other again, for the rest of the night. But that wasn’t the answer, as much as he wanted it.

What was between them was uncertain right now.

He
was uncertain. It wasn’t fair to either of them to keep fanning the fire.

From the sidewalk, he watched her drive away. Up in his room, he stowed the leftovers in the fridge, shucked his clothes and grabbed a bottle of scotch he’d left on the bar.

He was tired, but sleep was a million miles away for most of the night. All he could think about was Tiffany in her bed—and in his heart.

And what the heck he was going to do about it.

* * *

T
IFFANY
WAS
BARELY
able to hold back tears until she shut the door behind her, finally home, and they all came pouring forth. The pain in her temple was nothing compared to the sharp ache that Garrett’s words had triggered.

His simple response that he wasn’t confusing her with his late wife told Tiffany exactly what she needed to know. She’d wondered what was bothering him, and why he hadn’t been entirely himself all day, and now she knew.

So what? It wasn’t as if they had ever said they were anything more than a fling, but during several moments of their week, she’d thought, maybe…

She could have sworn by the look on his face when he’d found her downtown that something special was happening for him, too. Underneath the anger had been concern, passion. Caring. Things on which to build something more.

Or so she thought. She should have known better.

Well, she’d known in her head, but perhaps her heart had started to hope…

Big, big mistake.

Clearly, he was upset about what happened to her, but it all still came down to losing his wife—that was the real trauma that haunted him. The worst part was, Tiffany couldn’t even be angry with him for that. How could she be upset with a man who loved so deeply and still suffered so much for the woman he’d lost?

Except that she was here with him now, and she wanted more. More than a fling, more than sex. And Garrett was still stuck in the past as she was moving into her future.

It was so typical for her to have found the man she could fall in love with, and he was completely devoted to his late wife. They’d obviously had a relationship that this silly fling could not measure up to.

Wiping tears away and reaching for some tissues, she pulled herself together. She had to toughen up if she ever expected to be a good investigator. She’d already seen evidence of how love went wrong through her camera lens—take Marcus and Sally Hooper for example—and in her own life.

“Love leaves you a jam every time,” she said to herself in her best Philip Marlowe.

Staring at the ceiling, she got hold of herself and set her hurt aside. There was nothing she could do about that. But she could do something about the case.

Refocus and get to work. Knowing that a man they had considered something of a family friend, with whom they had done business for years, made it even more personal. That made her particularly determined to figure out what was going on. She needed some hard evidence; she couldn’t just go to Detective Ramsey with her suspicions.

Arthur Hayden appeared to have some gambling debts that he was working off—perhaps by sharing inside information with jewel thieves—but until she had proof, there was nothing the police could do anyway.

She looked at the clock. This might be her only chance to find out what Arthur Hayden was up to. At the bar, he’d said that he was heading to New York that morning; which meant no one was home in his apartment.

If she was going to find anything incriminating, it would be in the small apartment above the office where he ran his appraisal business.

Hopping up from the bed, she changed into a pair of dark jeans and a dark sweater, tying her hair back and grabbing a set of lock picks she’d bought and hadn’t yet had the chance to use—not on a real lock, anyway.

Arthur was gone, and she could have the run of his apartment and his office to try to find some evidence. Something that would be damning enough to take to Detective Ramsey, who could then bring him in for questioning, and hopefully solve the case.

Tiffany opted to leave her gun at home—she didn’t feel comfortable enough with it yet, and took some pepper spray instead, along with a flashlight and her phone.

Everything a girl needed for a break-in.

She’d been to Arthur’s office many times over the years. She was glad to see how quiet the street was in the Lower Haight neighborhood where the office and his apartment were located. Only a few people were out for late-night walks with their dogs.

Parking her car down the street from his address, she walked to the back and to her dismay, she had completely forgotten about the touchpad alarm system that protected the property. So much for trying out her lock-pick set.

Not giving up, Tiffany searched around the base of the building for an open basement window, but they all appeared secure with cinder block. Then it hit her, and she smiled.

The roof.

She couldn’t cut through the rooftop, like the jewelers did, but these were residential buildings and might have doorway access or a roof hatch that she could get through. A friend of hers did that all the time when she locked herself out of her apartment. It was dirty, and there might be a drop to the floor, depending on where the hatch led, but it was worth a try.

Ambling up the fire escape, she made it to the roof in seconds and gasped in surprise. It was lovely. Arthur and his neighbors had all planted rooftop gardens on the tops of their buildings and stepping over into the greenery was a nice surprise. Flowers bloomed around her, and small topiary trees in pots gave her some cover as she took a breath of cool air, looking up and smiling at the starry sky, standing amid the plants.

She wished Garrett was here, sharing the stars and the adventure with her, but she supposed technically she would be involving him in a crime, so maybe it was better he was back at the hotel. Tiffany had the idea he didn’t much approve of her taking chances, but she had to get the evidence somehow, and she couldn’t just walk up to Arthur and ask for it.

The roof did have a hatch, cleverly camouflaged behind several pots of thick gardenias, though it was locked.

She hoped it didn’t have security, but there was no way to tell. She’d find out soon enough. Pulling out her pick set and flashlight, she messed with the lock, and while doing so, reminded herself to invest in some mini bolt cutters she’d seen for sale. The gardenias were pungent, and she had to stifle several sneezes as she worked, but the locks were stubborn.

“Don’t bother,” Arthur said from behind her, making her fall backward in shock.

“Those locks are unbreakable, unless you can saw or somehow burn them off. I’m not stupid.”

Caught.

Tiffany supposed there was no way to talk her way out of this one.

“I know you were involved in the robberies,” she said, deciding to confront Arthur head-on. He was a man, but an older man not much larger than she was, and she could probably fight him if she had to, especially since he didn’t seem to have a weapon.

“You’re right, I was,” he said regretfully, shaking his head and walking back to sit in an ornate cast-iron chair.

Hardly threatening.

Tiffany got up cautiously, sliding her hand into her pocket and closing her fingers around the pepper spray just in case.

“Why?” she asked, staying on her feet, not getting too comfortable with Arthur’s apparent acquiescence.

He sighed heavily, tilting his head back as if to address the starry sky instead of her.

“Money, of course. It started slow, after my wife died years ago. I would go out to the bar, to have some feeling of life around me. I eventually started playing some of the games, and sometimes I won. It was the most exhilarating thing I’d felt in a while, and before I knew it, I was hooked.”

“And you got in too deep?”

“Well, legally, of course, the bars can’t act like casinos—they can’t hold your debt or winnings—but what Freddie does with some of her
special
customers is lend them advances to play. So it’s more of a loan. I was okay for a while. I do well through my business, but with the recession, slower business, I got behind quickly.”

“And who came up with the idea of robbing local stores to pay off your debt?”