The Hinky Velvet Chair (19 page)

“Naughty man!” Sovay said through the door.

Virgil chuckled. Footsteps sounded down the hall, and Jewel
peeked out again to see him descending the stairs.

She felt steam coming out of her ears.
The witch!
She marched across the hall.
Let her think the sugar daddy’s come back to pinch her again.
She
rapped on Sovay’s door.

“Coming!” Sovay trilled from inside.

Jewel had to knock twice. Then the door opened on a
fully-dressed Sovay.

Sovay’s face twisted into a silent snarl.

Jewel was glad she was three inches taller than the bitch.

“Hi, I wondered if you’ve seen Lord Darner anywhere? He
hasn’t taken his afternoon penicillin. He’s so careless.” Jewel looked past
Sovay at a rumpled bed. “About where he sleeps.”

Sovay flipped her hair back and threw the door wide.

Jewel sauntered past, scanning the room for signs of Randy.
No pile of empty Lord-Darnerwear. No anklet. A knotted pillowcase full of
something tipped over and slid off the bed to the floor. Randy’s clothes?
Behind her, she could feel Sovay’s glare like a red-hot slap on the back of her
head.

No Randy.

It was a ninety-percent sure thing he was in that bed.

But Jewel had a huge advantage now. All she needed was the
tracking unit and she would find him.

Stifling a sigh of relief, she swept past Sovay. “Lunchtime,”
she said brightly. “If you’re not too full to eat.”

She was startled to meet a glare of sizzling hatred. Not
just
you bitch,
but
I keel you feelthy.

Yow.
Okay then.

o0o

At lunch, everyone but Sovay commented on Randy’s absence.

“No clue,” Jewel said more than once. “He just disappears
from time to time. I never worry.”

o0o

“Clay,” she hissed when the meal ended an hour later. “I
need to talk to you.”

Of course he dawdled getting away from the table, and then
Griffy wanted her opinion about the food she was ordering for a block party to
be held on Virgil’s birthday Saturday night, and then Kauz showed them
fifty-seven pictures of the aura of a bowl of fruit. By two-thirty, Jewel was
beside herself.

“What’s up, officer?” Clay said when she had dragged him
into her room.

“Where’s the tracking unit that goes with those anklets? I
need it. Now.”

“It didn’t come yet.”

She grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him nose-to-nose. “Don’t
mess me around. This is urgent.”

“Buzz can’t have gotten in trouble alrea—” He stopped. “Randy?”

“Randy,” she said through her teeth. “He was in Sovay’s room
before lunch, I’m positive. Virgil surprised them together.”

“That must have been interesting,” Clay drawled.

“Well, he didn’t get the door open and see them. But if
Randy heard his voice—”

“Catch Randy zapping into a bed because some guy walks in on
him with his girlfriend? I doubt it.” Clay looked thoughtful. “Unless he knew
you
were about to catch him.”

She considered this. “He might have. I was talking to Virgil
by the door.”

Clay nodded. “We have to get into that room.”

“That’s why I wanted you. You can watch while I, uh, look
for Randy.”

He blinked. “That’s a real nice offer but I pass.”

Jewel almost pasted him one. Then she realized what he meant
and only socked his arm. “Watch the
hallway
for people who might catch us.”

“Right. I’ll get my tools.”

Jewel followed him upstairs. When they got to his room, she
found that Clay’s tools were lockpicks. “You brought burglar’s tools with you?”

“Undercover 101. I take it you cut class that day.” Clay
leaned up against Sovay’s door, looking left and right over his shoulder, and
in two jifs he had them inside the room.

Jewel relocked the door.

“There you go,” he said, gesturing at the bed.

Jewel looked at the fancy gold brocade coverlet and wrinkled
her nose. “I guess I have to.” Now that she was here, she didn’t want to do
this. “Damn Randy,” she muttered.

She sat down on the bed.

Clay wandered around, poking into drawers, going through the
closet, fiddling with makeup on the dressing table. “You know, if I’d been more
prepared I could do some real damage here.”

“Stop snooping and go watch the door.” Jewel closed her eyes
and tried to concentrate, feeling for a tingle, a zing, some sign of her errant
stealth fuck.

“Little stink juice in the perfume. Hair remover in the
shampoo.”

She sat up. “Could you please go outside? Like, lurk down
the hall, and if she comes this way, you distract her. You’re good at that.”

“Hm. What if a maid comes to make the bed while I’m
distracting her? Jeepers, how many shoes does a woman need?”

Jewel flopped back down. “At least keep quiet.”

“Relax. She went shopping.”

With an effort Jewel shut her eyes and relaxed. Time passed.

Clay puttered around the room.

Jewel prayed he wouldn’t lift Sovay’s jewelry.

He started humming. She jammed a pillow over her head.

Randy? Are you in
here?

He had to be. The rhythmic thumping. The look on Sovay’s
face when she opened the door to Jewel was proof of that. Plus Virgil
knock-knock-knocking and then taunting Sovay, since he was not a senile horndog
but a razor-sharp con man on the hunt. Yep, she’d been banging Randy in here,
all right.

Jewel thought of Sovay’s smug smile at lunch, rolled over,
and punched the mattress.
I do not care
who he fucks.

Who was she kidding? She owned this guy. It was a dirty
little secret that got bigger and messier every day, like a big old cow plop,
spang in the middle of her conscience. She
hated
him screwing around. It was like sharing your toothbrush. She herself had him
every single day of her life.

Except last night, when he’d been paying her back for the
night before, when she also didn’t fuck him.
Payback. Another excellent reason for avoiding a long-term
relationship.

She groaned and held still, trying to clear her mind.

In the silence she heard little clinks and rustles.

She lifted the pillow two inches off her face. “Quit
searching her stuff. I mean it.”

“You must have been a big sister—”

“I’m an orphan. No siblings.”

“—In a past life. You’re so bossy. Well, well, well. What
have we here?”

Sweaty and annoyed, she sat up again. “I don’t know, what? A
class one felony in progress?”

Clay was riffling through a mahogany-red jewelry box. “Checkbooks.
Six of them. All in different names.” He looked over at her. “How’s it coming?
Any sign of Lord Barenaked?”

She scowled. “No.”

“Go to sleep. That’ll fetch him,” he said.

“I hope so. I think he’s sulking. He was pretty mad at me.”

Troubled, she lay back down and put the pillow over her
head. Rustlings sounded, even through the pillow, so she wrapped her arms
around it and squeezed it against her ears.

She tried to think about something sexy. Fancy underwear?
She liked lingerie, but it seemed like a waste of money when she spent so much
of her guy time naked. Speaking of which,
where
the fuck is that sex demon?
Concentration wasn’t working.

What would draw him?

A horny woman.

What would make her horny?

About a million things, but she’d recently found a whole new
side of herself, i.e., a girl too shy to come screaming and have her clothes
explode all over the room in front of people.

In fact, the one time Clay had ever been nearby when she was
doing Randy—

“Ah-hah.” She sat up again.

Clay took his hand out of his pocket and turned around. “Ah-hah
what?”

“I know what’ll get him to stop sulking.” She looked at Clay
guiltily.

“What?” He drew near the bed. “You intrigue me, officer.
What’s that look about?”

She remembered how he had refused to have sex with her, two
nights ago.
This will be fun.
She
stared at the sheet. “Um, remember when we were in your hotel suite and Randy
walked in?”

“Why, yes. Yes, I do.”

Always so noncommittal. It was the con artist in him, making
the mark do all the work. She set her teeth. “Well, he couldn’t resist, um,
showing up that time. I think it was more than knowing he had to, um, do
something for me, or he’d be stuck in that couch forever. It was like, there’s
a woman right here who wants it, so he
had
to, like....”

Clay sat on the end of the bed. “Hm. I see what you mean.”

“I mean, I realize you’ve sworn off sex. With me. Because of
the partners thing. Which is wise, since you’re insubordinate and in another
minute I’m liable to phone in a green sheet for your file.” She gasped and took
a long, slow, calming breath.

“Oo, a green sheet! I’m trembling. You catch more flies with
honey than vinegar, partner,” he drawled, not moving. God dammit, he was always
trying to get in her pants.

Until two nights ago.

She swallowed, not looking at him.

“You’re not used to asking for it, are you?” he said with a
smile in his voice, and she wanted to punch him so bad that her arm jerked by
itself. “All you have to do is look at a guy and he sits up and begs. And that
was before the Venus Machine kicked your green tones into high.”

She looked up and said sharply, “I don’t want to d-do
anything with you any more than you do. But we do not leave our people trapped
and alone.”

“He won’t be alone by tonight.”

Right. Sovay would be back in this bed.

She eyed Clay. “Are you having fun?”

He crinkled his blue eyes at her. “Why yes, I’m having a
ball. I haven’t had so much fun since we hid under a thirteen thousand dollar
sofa at Field’s and then burgled the joint.” She drew air across her clenched
teeth. “But you’re right. We don’t leave our people trapped and alone. Very
praiseworthy. So, uh.”

He looked at her, looked at the space between them, looked
at the bed, cleared his throat, and scooted a couple of inches closer to her.
Hesitantly, he reached out with both arms, circled her in an awkward hug, then
let his arms drop.

“Uh, I’m experiencing a little performance anxiety here.”

If she killed him, she wouldn’t have any way of flushing
Randy out of his hiding place. “I could understand that.” She heard
embarrassment in her own voice.

“Let’s hold hands until we think of something.”

Gratefully, avoiding his face, she scooted over and he
boosted himself onto the bed beside her. She put one hand out and he took it.
They sat side by side, leaning against the headboard, holding hands, looking
straight ahead.

She said, “Will we get caught? We’re gonna get caught.”

“I pennied us in.”

“Excuse me?”

“Didn’t you do that in college? Tons of fun. You stick a
penny in the door crack and it won’t open.”

She was touched. “That was thoughtful. Thank you.”

They didn’t say anything for a minute.
This is so awkward.

“Now
I’m
having
performance anxiety,” she said.

“You can’t expect me to do all the work here. You’re the one
who insists—”

“I know, I know!”

“I’d seduce you in a New York minute, if it was my idea.”

“Well, it wasn’t my idea to go to
your
room two nights ago!” she burst out and then bit her lip. “I
mean,” she said more quietly, “it wasn’t. I was so drunk I couldn’t think
straight.” She considered saying,
And I
thought you were taking me to my room,
but decided it wasn’t true.

He said, “Okay, you’re right, I made a mistake there. I had
this foolish plan to, I dunno, break the ice between us. Get you to loosen up a
little.”

“I do not need to get any looser,” she stated.

He looked at her and she turned her head warily to meet his
eyes. In a gentle tone he said, “You can get tense on the job.”

“That’s because it’s a job, not a con or a game or a—”

He said hastily, “But I saw how wrong I was when you
explained it. So I want to stay your partner.”

He didn’t say any more. She digested this.
He’s not pushing for sex. He wants to stick
with me.

That felt weird. Weird, but good.

“Is that why you’re... not helping me here?”

“I’ll help you. I want to help you.” He said with quiet
sincerity, “I just don’t want to wreck our working relationship.”

She drew a deep, shaky breath. “Okay. Here’s the thing. Once
you can tell Randy’s starting to, um,
manifest,
would you be willing to go outside and wait til we’re done? He’s not, like,
solid, like, fully in this world, until I, um. But maybe you can tell before,
um. Because you don’t like when he’s between us, anyway, right?”

“Sure. I wouldn’t want to be in the way,” he said in a
saintly boy-next-door voice.