A Match Made in Mystery (10 page)

Getting into his car, he drove away. Glancing back just once, he saw Amy and her companion arms wrapped around one another talking intently.

He squeezed the steering wheel when what he really wanted to do was throttle Amy Winn. He knew he was in for a long night.

Amy fought the urge to chase after the disappearing lights of Brady’
s car.

“We have to get off the street,” Diego told her on a pained groan, clutching her tightly.

“My place,
babe
?” She grabbed his belt at his hip to help keep him upright.

Babe
was the code word they each used when they were in trouble and needed the other’s help.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Diego agreed on a pained wheeze.

Slowly, with Diego leaning heavily on her, they walked the two blocks to her apartment building. Amy dug her keys out of her purse and unlocked the foyer door, letting them inside the building. Once there, Diego released his death grip on her and leaned heavily against the wall, struggling to catch his breath despite the fact they’d moved slower than some turtles.

“Maybe I should call someone,” Amy suggested.

“No. Just give me a sec.”

She’d been upset with Diego for interrupting her time with Brady, but when she realized he’d really needed her help, she couldn’t tell him no. “What happened?”

“Classified,” he wheezed. “Who was the Lexus driver?”

While Diego used the railing to help pull himself up the first flight of stairs, Amy quickly explained who Brady was and how he’d figured into her extraordinary day.

When she was done, Diego let out a low whistle. “Wow.”

“I know,” she nodded. “Crazy, right?”

Diego chuckled, an action that caused him to slap a hand over his ribs as he stifled a moan.

She knew better than to ask him what was wrong, so she instead asked, “What’s so funny?”

“You and the love-at-first-sight thing.”

She stared at him open-mouthed for a long moment before squeaking, “Are you on drugs?”

Her oldest friend’s dark gaze examined her face. “You’re denying it?”

She nodded adamantly.

Shrugging, he turned, grabbed the railing and began hauling himself up the next set of stairs.

“I’m not in love with him,” she insisted, chasing after him. “He’s just helping me figure this twenty-year-old note thing out.”

“You can fool yourself,” Diego gasped, “but you can’t fool me.”

His heavy breathing echoed in the stairwell as he continued to climb.

She would have argued with him, but thought it best he save his breath. Following closely behind him to ensure he didn’t tumble backward, she considered what he’d said. Her knee-jerk reaction had been to deny his claim, but if she was truly honest with herself, she had to admit there was something to Brady Stewart.

But she told herself it wasn’t love at first sight.

She hadn’t given him a second thought when she’d first seen him at the restaurant and directed him to his table. But, she admitted to herself, she
had
wondered about him after he’d ordered the purple people eater.

Then he’d given her his shirt, offered support when dealing with Detective Smith, been kind to her in the elevator, promised to help her figure out the mysterious letter, and waited hours to make sure she got home safely.

Not to mention he had a killer smile, smelled like heaven, had a great sense of humor, and treated everyone he encountered well.

What wasn’t to like?

But she
wasn
’t
in love with him. Perhaps slightly infatuated, but that would soon pass.

Reaching her floor, she pulled out her keys, unlocked the multiple locks, and let Diego inside.

He stumbled over to the bed and flopped down on it, face-first.

Pippin jumped up and meowed in his face, making it clear she didn’t appreciate that he’d stolen her favorite spot on the bed.

Lifting his head, Diego glared at the cat. “Go away before you use up one of your nine lives.”

Amy knew he’d never actually hurt her feline companion, but she shooed her away from him anyway. Patting Diego’s shoulder she asked, “Do you want something to drink?”

“I just need to sleep.”

Grabbing a corner of the bedspread, she pulled it over Diego. “Okay. Sweet dreams.”

“You decided I’m right, didn’t you?”

“About what?” she asked, even though she knew full well he was talking about her being in love.

“I hope the poor guy knows what a stubborn thing you can be.” Diego rolled over onto his back. “Though I’ve got to admit, he’s lucky to have you.”

Picking up a pillow from the bed, Amy threw it at Diego’s head. “He doesn’t
have
me.”

“Whose fault is that?” he murmured tiredly, tucking the pillow under his head and closing his eyes.

Brady pulled into the parking lot of Busy Bea’s fifteen minutes early, but Amy was already there waiting for him.

Dressed in jeans and an oversized beige sweater that did nothing for her either in color or fit, she still managed to look casually beautiful. Instead of carrying her weapon choice, a small, leather wristlet dangled from her hand as she balanced a cardboard tray and a paper bag.

Propping the tray against her hip, she opened the passenger door of his car, the scent of fresh coffee wafting in on the cool morning air. “Good morning.” Her voice held a note of cheer that didn’t match the worry he spotted in her eyes as she slid inside the car.

“Morning,” he acknowledged gruffly, reminding himself of his vow to remain aloof and keep things professional.

“I brought coffee and donuts.” She carefully placed the tray between her feet.  “And a banana in case you’re one of those healthy people who eschew the heavenly goodness of baked goods.”

He clenched his teeth to keep from grinning at her banter.

“How do you take your coffee?”

“Black.”

Plucking one of the Styrofoam cups out, she turned in her seat to offer it to him. Their gazes collided and the ensuing spark of awareness sent the temperature in the car upwards exponentially.

“Thanks,” he said, being careful not to touch her as he took the cup. He placed it in the cup holder.

“I need to explain about last night,” Amy said quickly, giving the impression that whatever came out of her mouth was going to be a rehearsed speech.

“No you don’t.” He shifted the car into drive.

“I do.”

“You have a boyfriend. It’s really pretty self-explanatory.” Easing his foot off the brake, the car rolled forward.

“He’s not,” she countered.

“I don’t know what kind of men you’re accustomed to dealing with, but I told you I’d help you and I will. You don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

Stomping on the brakes, Brady threw the car in park and twisted in his seat to glare at her. “So he’s what? A late-night booty call?”

She blinked, stunned into silence.

“You couldn’t keep your hands off him last night.”

“It’s complicated, and unfortunately, I can’t explain the specifics,” she said carefully. “But I’m telling you he’s not my boyfriend. He’s not a booty call. We don’t date.”

Brady’s heart somersaulted as he realized he believed her. “So you’re telling me you don’t have a boyfriend?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Why not?”

“Because I work two jobs and,” she hesitated for a brief moment, “I don’t have a social life.”

Something in her hesitation tugged at him, just like when he was deposing a witness and got a gut feeling that there was more for them to reveal. “Why do you work two jobs?”

Her gaze turned hard. “Because I need the money.”

“Why?” he pressed, hating the way her chin tilted up defiantly. Why did it feel like all their conversations devolved into interrogations?

“That’s none of your business,” she told him in a voice devoid of emotion.

“Hey I’m out here on a Saturday morning helping you,” he reminded her.

“Throwing a temper tantrum because you believe Diego is my boyfriend,” she countered.

“Is that his name? Diego?”

“Leave him out of this.”

Brady threw his hands into the air. “You’re the one who brought him up.”

They glared at one another, locked in silent battle; each convinced they were in the right.

A sharp knock against the trunk of the car startled them both. They both turned to see the cause of the noise. His chin connected with her forehead with a painful thud.

“Ow,” she cried, rubbing the painful spot.

He cradled his jaw, hoping he hadn’t just cracked a tooth.

No one was behind the car.

“Open up,” a male voice insisted.

Peering over Amy’s shoulder, Brady realized her non-boyfriend was standing beside his car. Bent at the waist, Diego’s face was level with theirs.

Amy went to open her door, but Brady, being quicker, hit the automatic lock button.

“This is a private conversation, pal,” he shouted at Diego.

Amy smacked Brady’s shoulder. “Open the door.”

“No. He interrupted us last night. He’s not doing it again today.”

She looked at Diego. “Any chance we could do this later?”

“Naah” He smirked. “No time like the present.”

“Unlock it, Brady,” she insisted testily.

“Why should I?”

“Because I asked.”

“You didn’t ask nicely.”

“
Please
,” she stressed dramatically. “Open the damn door.”

“Maybe if you convinced me, I’d unlock it.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Convince you how?”

“Kiss me.”

She smacked his shoulder again. “Are you crazy?”

“If he’s not your boyfriend, why would it be an issue?”

“The man drives a hard bargain,” Diego opined from outside the car.

To Brady it sounded like he was amused.

“I don’t go around kissing men I’ve just met.” Amy crossed her arms over her chest, signaling the close of the topic. “You two can fight it out.” Slamming her head against the seat, she shut her eyes.

Diego shrugged at Brady.

Realizing he’d lost, Brady rolled down Amy’s window.

Diego stuck an arm inside, reaching past the woman with the closed eyes, offering to shake hands with Brady. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself last night. I’m Diego.”

Brady grudgingly shook the other man’s hand. “Brady.”

“Amy’s told me a lot about you, Brady.” There was no animosity in the man’s tone, just mild curiosity and friendliness.

Brady wasn’t sure how to react. “She hasn’t really told me about you.”

Diego grinned. “That’s because she keeps her promises.”

Amy finally opened her eyes to glare at the man outside the car. “What are you doing here?”

“You left early. I wanted to come along and meet your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Amy said quickly.

“You should kiss him,” Diego urged.

“You should mind your own business.”

Instead of responding to her, Diego looked across the car at Brady. “Good luck, man. She’s my best friend, but even I don’t know what to tell you that could win her over.”

“You could leave me alone,” Amy suggested with exaggerated sweetness.

Before she knew what he was doing, Diego popped his head into the car and kissed her cheek. “Let me know what happens. Nice meeting you, Brady.” Straightening, he strolled away before either of the car’s occupants could respond.

“Sorry about that,” Amy muttered, raising her window.

Knowing the other man wasn’t his rival for Amy’s affections made Brady almost giddy, but considering her mood, Brady didn’t think now was the time to gloat. “There’s never a dull moment. We should go if we’re going to meet Phyllis on time.”

Putting the car into drive, he snuck a quick glance at the woman beside him. She was staring out the window, the remnants of an enchanting blush fading from her cheeks.

He squeezed the steering wheel tightly, restraining himself from doing something that would bring the color back. He wondered if the rest of her body flushed as easily.

While Brady drove, Amy plotted ways to get revenge on Diego. What had he been thinking showing up? Why had he called Brady her boyfriend and urged him to kiss her? And that last bit, was it some sort of twisted Man Code where men are obligated to wish each other good luck as they chased the object of their desire? Or did Diego actually think that Brady Stewart with his fancy car and job was a good fit for her?

She’d have to ask him
before
she killed him.

Clearing his throat, Brady interrupted her murderous thoughts as he pulled into the parking lot of an assisted living facility.

“Any other boyfriends who aren’t boyfriends I should know about?”

“No.”

“Any real boyfriends?” He tried to sound casual, but she heard the note of genuine curiosity in his tone.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she countered.

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

He chuckled. “My last girlfriend told me that she’d thought she was dating a high-powered attorney, not a frustrated do-gooder.”