Chapter Two
Penny rolled over, opened one eye to read the green, iridescent numbers, then pulled a pillow over her head. The clang of pans coming out of the cupboard had woke her. Her roomie wasn’t particularly quiet this morning.
What the hell is she doing?
Even on her days off, Mandy got up too damned early. She sniffed. Coffee. If she had to be awake before nine, at least coffee awaited her.
And maybe Mandy’s French toast?
When she pushed the pillow from her face and ventured from the warmth of her covers, the air didn’t chill her. Ah. Coffee and the heater had already warmed the house. Sitting on the side of the bed, she stretched, ruffled her shoulder-length hair, and slid her feet into fuzzy slippers. With her eyes half-opened, she followed her nose to the kitchen.
“I hope to hell we still have some of that sweet cream for the coffee.” Shuffling down the hall, she spoke loud enough to reach Mandy in the kitchen. “I’ll forgive your early morning brightness if you hand me a cup, and don’t speak until I’ve had at least half a—”
The sight of a man’s back sitting at the kitchen table stopped her.
Her housemate stood at the stove and looked over her shoulder. “We’ve got the cream, but you’re going to have to put up with some conversation.”
Penny took a step backward. Her hair sticking out in every direction was bad enough, but greeting someone in Batgirl flannel jammies and morning breath was not okay.
“Come on.” Mandy waved her toward the kitchen with a wire whisk. “Jake, you remember my friend, Penny, don’t you?”
Jake Winters, Mandy’s ex-rocker brother?
The man at the table turned in his chair, rested his bicep on the back, and appraised her from crazy, wild hair to pjs to fuzzy slippers. A slight smile twitched his lips as if he suppressed an all-out laugh. “I’m not sure.”
His sister shook her head. “Yeah, well, those were the days, weren’t they, Bubba?”
Thrown into trembling fan mode at the sight of smoky gray eyes and deep auburn colored hair curling perfectly at his neck and ears, she couldn’t utter a word. The short beard added a different dimension which added to the attraction. The night they met flashed in her mind. Alone with him in his dressing room, stoned out of his head, he’d made quite an impression. The kiss that led to grabbing her ass and rude remarks—oh yes, the memory lived on.
“I remember you, although the beard is new. But let’s say the night wasn’t particularly memorable, thank you very much.”
He winced. “I—”
“I’m whipping up French toast.” Mandy shot her an exaggerated sad face and neatly changed the topic. “How many pieces does everyone want?” She broke an egg into a glass bowl.
Penny padded over to the coffee pot. “I’ll take two.” Any other time, she might’ve refused breakfast, grabbed a cup of coffee, and removed her morning-self from any more scrutiny. But, if the hunky ex-rocker couldn’t even remember their brief encounter and offer up an apology, then let him suffer with her company.
“Three for me, Angel.”
Well, kind of sweet the way he had a nickname for his little sister.
After Penny doused her coffee with cream, she pulled a chair from the table and sat opposite the washed-up heartthrob. Peeking over her cup, she stared into his face, and her stomach did a butterfly thing. Drugs and six years hadn’t ruined his looks. There were six or seven years between Mandy and her brother, so he must be forty by now, or close to it. Something in his face had changed beyond the few lines at the corners of his eyes and the beard. He gave off an entirely different vibe. The cockiness had disappeared. Still…
Jake darted a veiled glance in her direction, then back at his sister. “Can I help?”
“Naw. Too many hands in the pot and all that.” Mandy broke two more eggs into the bowl.
All of the ingredients weren’t on the counter. “I’ll grab the brandy.” Penny scooted her chair to stand.
“No!” Her housemate’s eyes opened wide, and she ticked her head toward Jake. “I’m trying something new this morning.”
“Ah, really?” Her taste buds fell flat.
“I don’t believe that. And Penny looks like she’ll kill me if I’m the cause for changing the recipe. You can drag out the brandy, Mandy. It won’t bother me.”
“But I want to fix something you can eat.”
He laughed. “I can eat your French toast this morning without going into the DT’s tomorrow.”
“But, Jake, I don’t think—”
“You heard your brother. He’s a big boy and knows what he can and can’t have.” She wasn’t inclined to cut the guy a break. Not after the way he deflated her star struck balloon way back when—and didn’t even remember her.
She hopped up, trotted to the living room where they kept a few bottles of alcohol in an antique hutch, and returned to the kitchen in time to see the two in a clutch.
Mandy hugged her brother tightly, eyes glassy with tears.
“I love you, Dark Angel.” He patted her back and kissed her on top of the head before letting go.
The scene hit Penny hard, but not like a brick on the head. More like a giant boxer’s glove to the gut that didn’t knock her out, but took her breath away. The face of her brother, John, came to mind…a summer day when he’d fallen off the top of the stone fence at the country club. She’d been more upset than he had, and he’d ended up soothing her with the same words. Slumping against the doorframe, the sweet scene left her with a sense of loneliness.
Jake touched his sister’s cheek. “I’m doing fine, really.”
Mandy glanced at her, strode around the table, and held out a hand. “Give me the brandy.” With a pat on Penny’s shoulder, she circumvented the table again and punched her brother on the arm as she passed him. “We’re all doing great.”
Jake rubbed his bicep. “You always were the brute in the family.” With a smile, he winked at Penny as they sat, then appeared to rethink his borderline flirt. He ducked his head and tapped fingers on the table.
Shaking off her melancholy, she’d nearly smiled back. If looks alone were important, this older Jake could run circles around rocker Jake.
Running a hand through her bed head, she glanced down at Batgirl on one of her knees, and her neck grew uncomfortably warm. Even if she’d wanted his flirty attention, her appearance would hardly invite such behavior.
“I should change, I suppose.”
“Don’t bother on my account.” He lounged back in the chair.
“I won’t, but—”
“Forget it, Penny.” Mandy lifted a small pitcher of maple syrup from a pan of hot water on the stove. “I won’t risk the breakfast going cold.” She flicked her brother on the head.
He jumped.
“Penny looks great, even in jammies and punk-rock hair, doesn’t she, Jake?”
She tried to cast a mean stare, but her roomie managed to avoid her by turning back to the stove.
“Well, I’d say you’re appropriately dressed for breakfast as far as, well, you know, and the hair it’s…it’s…” A chuckle in the form of a snort escaped. “Yes, you look great.”
“Oh, you both can stuff it.” She suppressed a giggle and feigned indignation. “So, you’re the wimp of the family, huh, and Mandy could beat your butt?” Nudging aside bittersweet thoughts of her own brother, she opened the cupboard for plates, then a drawer for silverware.
“I wouldn’t say that,” he protested.
“I would.” His sister piled slices of French toast on a platter. Grabbing the butter from the refrigerator she continued, “Jake’s always been the lover in the family. He took Mom’s advice to heart, to ‘use your words.’” She emptied her arms of food onto the table and sat. “Me? Rush in, clobber the situation, and ask questions later.”
Penny distributed plates and silverware. “I can see that.” As the words left her mouth, he smoked her with those gray eyes.
“You can?” He blinked, tilted his head, and pretended surprise…flirtatiously.
“I meant Mandy.”
A hint of a smirk settled on his lips.
The goose bumps that smirk caused convinced her she’d just have to quit looking at him. He might appear smooth and sweet natured, but she knew how the real Jake Winters could act.
Smash the illusion and break your heart, damn it.
Jake studied his sister’s housemate a few moments until the smell of steaming French toast drew his attention. As they ate, he told the tale of the night in the motel from hell. His sister laughed until tears ran down her face. Penny’s laughter was more reserved, and any attempt he made at bringing her into the conversation ended in failure.
He remembered her all right. But he’d let the details fall into the chasm of forgotten or half-remembered memories. No doubt, he’d been stoned on something by the way she reacted toward him. A fuzzy memory of a kiss brought a pleasant sensation, although exactly what he’d done and said from there would be pure conjecture. Probably another one of his shining moments.
“Hey,” Mandy’s raised voice broke his thought. “Jake, did you hear me?”
“Oh, sorry.” He’d gotten lost trying to recall a night six…five…seven?…years ago. “I was, er, sorry. What’s that?” He gulped his last swallow of coffee.
His sister frowned. “Are you—?”
“Yes, fine. That idiot boss, ex-boss, is no laughing matter. I was thinking about how to get my money.”
His sister stared hard into his face, lines of worry crinkling around her eyes.
He pulled a lock of hair hanging over her shoulder. “Stop. Are you going to examine my every little action?”
Not that he needed anyone else involved in his life, but he flicked a glance at Penny, wondering how much of his sordid tale Mandy had spilled. Then again, she probably could’ve gotten his life story in any gossip rag or newspaper once upon a time.
“No, but start listening when your sister speaks.” She grabbed some beard and tugged.
“Yow!” He played the injured sibling. “Yes, Angel.”
She let go and giggled. “That beard’s going to come in handy. Like I said, I’ll put you up in the den. The couch lets out to a bed. You can stay as long as you like.”
Penny scooted back from the table, and he thought he heard her huff.
“Some of us have to go to work today.” She clattered her dishes into the sink. “And I need to leave early so I can get my oil changed. Do you mind if I leave you the dishes, Mandy?” She started for the hall before his sister answered.
“Not at all, Fairy. I think Jake will be happy to clean up the kitchen.”
Fairy?
With a quick glance, she waved and disappeared around the corner.
Better to spend time with his sister alone anyway. “Earn my keep, eh?”
“Damn straight.” Mandy put the butter away, poured another cup of coffee, and held the pot toward him. “You?”
“Nah. You sit and drink your coffee and watch me clean.”
“Perfect.” She sipped, moved to sit, but changed directions and grabbed the bottle of brandy off the sink. “I’ll just put this away.”
He smiled over his shoulder. When she returned, he asked, “What’s with calling her a fairy?”
“It’s a silly nickname, like Angel.” She plopped onto a chair. “A friend of ours dubbed her the Black Fairy years ago, ’cause of the Goth thing.”
“Hmm. The Black Fairy meets the Dark Angel.” He opened the dishwasher and filled it with rinsed dishes. “Are you sure you want me staying here. She doesn’t like me.”
“Give her a chance. I gather you were pretty rude the last time you saw each other? Or so I can assume.”
“Rude might be one way to typify the way I acted.” There were plenty of those nights. The syrup churned in his stomach. Could he ever stop the regret from creeping in and spoiling a new day?
“That wasn’t really you.”
“Yeah, well…”
She rose and came beside him. “I’ve missed you, Bubba. The real you.” She tugged his beard, and a smile split her face with happiness. “Looks like you’re back.”
“Back and broke. You do know that, right? I didn’t want to come to you, not without getting my whole life back together.”
“Broke isn’t important. Not in the financial sense anyway.” She thumped his chest with a fist. “As long as you’re not broken here.”
“It’s fixed. The edges are jagged, but the glue is holding. And I’m determined to make it last. Six months of rehab, six months out, and in constant contact with my sponsor. I’m on my own now, and I’m doing okay.” He turned away, wiped his hands on a dishcloth, took a deep breath, and faced her. Now was as good a time as any to make amends. If only words were enough. “I need to formally apologize to you, Mandy.”
“Ah, Jake…” She waved a hand to shoo away his words.
“I do.” Her eyes searched his face, and he accepted the scrutiny while he searched for the right words. “I’m sorry for disappointing you. You were always there for me, and once upon a time I was there for you. I let you down. I let myself down. I’m working hard to make it up to all of us.”
“Seeing you happy is good enough for me. You are happy now, right?”
“Even without a dime in my pocket, I’m happy. But…” He ran a hand through his hair and studied his aged, scuffed boots. “I need work.”
“Why don’t you look around Flagstaff? Stay with me, until you find a job. This is a great little city.”
“Cold as hell.”
“Not often. And there’s nothing like the pines and peaks when it snows. It’s almost Christmas, Jake.” She clapped her hands. “We can have a real family Christmas.”
The thought of seeing his parents threw a shadow over the excitement he’d almost shared with her. There’d been no two in the world who’d been more proud of where his talent had taken him…and there’d been no two more disappointed. They were at the top of his make amends list. The hardest to face. Even though he’d settled in Phoenix after rehab, and they’d retired only miles away in Mesa, he’d avoided making contact with them.
“Please, Jake.”
Her eyes sparkled brighter than Christmas tree lights. Maybe he could find a job in Flagstaff. Maybe he could get back what he’d lost.
“We’ll see.”
A door closed somewhere down the hall. The faint sound of off-key singing drifted through the house. Penny sang in the shower? The Black Fairy. He didn’t know the names or faces of other women whose hearts he’d trampled. But he remembered Penny, remembered an open smile, and she hadn’t fallen all over herself trying to impress him. The memory was more of an impression than exactly what was said and done. Could he make her a friend? The effort could be the sort of thing his counselor said could heal the soul.
We’ll see.
“But right now…” He stood and swept his hands downward. “Look at me. I need clean clothes.” He scooped his keys from the table. “I’ve got to head down to Phoenix and get some things. That is, if you can lend me some gas money. I can’t go anywhere with you like this, much less go out looking for a job.”
“Tomorrow.” She looped an arm around his. “You just got here, it’s my day off, and I want to spend it with you.”
“Yeah, but—”
“No buts. We’re going Christmas tree shopping.”
“Maybe we can throw these clothes in the washer first?”
“Wait!” She tugged him out of the kitchen and into what looked like the den. “I just remembered. Pete left some stuff behind that I’ve had in a box, meaning to take to Goodwill.” She opened a closet door and slid out a box. “He got pudgy the last year we were married. When he left, he took only what would fit him and left the rest for me to clean up. So typical for the jerk.”
He remembered the ex-husband stood taller than his own five foot ten, but had a similar build. “I’m sorry about you and Pete. Are you doing okay?”
“More than okay.” His sister rifled around in the box and came out with a couple of pairs of jeans, then he helped her stand up. “I didn’t know how happy I could be until he left.” She shoved the jeans at him. “See if these fit. Bet they do. And there’re some shirts in here, too. Maybe even a sweater or something warm. I’ll go shower while you change. There’s a half-bath in the hall. That couch lets out, and there’s bedding in the top of the closet. This is your new temporary home.”
“Temporary?” He glanced around the room. “I think I could be pretty comfortable here.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. I just got rid of one messy man. Brother or not, I’m not letting you flop forever.”
“Man. You’re hard.” He made an exaggerated frown.
Her smile lit the room. “Oh gosh, Jake, I’m so glad you’re here.” She patted his cheek.
“I’ve missed you, Angel.” Turning his face, he kissed her palm.
“You damn well should’ve. Serves you right.”
Another punch thrown, more seriously, stung his arm. “Hey.”
Ignoring him, she whirled and flounced out the doorway, stopping before rounding the corner into the hall. “Christmas tree shopping!” She clapped her hands and disappeared.
He strolled over and glanced down the hall, but she’d vanished, and there was no sign of Penny. Swinging the door shut, he turned and surveyed the room. Certainly homier than the weekly rented apartment in Phoenix. In fact, something he recognized as contentment thrummed in his chest. He’d purr if he was a big tomcat. It’d been a long while since he’d felt quite this hopeful.
While stripping out of his clothes, footsteps sounded on the wooden floor of the hall, but passed by. If he could spend time with Mandy, get a job, and make a truce with Penny, it might give him the respite he needed to figure out the rest of his life.
He tugged a navy blue T-shirt over his head then stepped into some jeans. Jeans were a tad long even with his boots on, but better too long than too short. His sister was sure to push a reunion with his parents for Christmas. Maybe. It might depend on the job situation. He added a light blue, cable knit sweater over the tee then checked his look in the mirror above the couch. Satisfied with the way the clothes fit, he headed out to get his things from the truck.
When he opened the front door, the sun assaulted his eyes while the chilly air pinched his cheeks. Squinting against the glare, he started across the snow-covered yard when a noise sounded behind him. He turned to see Penny close the back door of a car and open the front driver’s side. The double carport housed two cars, and he assumed the other car, a red Camaro, was his sister’s.
“You heading to work?” He ambled toward her.
She paused, threw a purse onto the passenger seat, and faced him, one hand resting on the roof. “Eventually. Going to get my oil changed first.”
He stopped at the back bumper of the older vehicle. “A purple Neon. What is it, about fifteen years old?”
“Exactly fifteen. And it’s Deep Cranberry Pearl, for your information.” She emphasized each word of the Dodge’s color name with a slight smile.
“Oh, I beg your pardon.” He tapped the trunk. “Looks like a big eggplant to me.”
She narrowed dark brown eyes, and pursed her lips for a moment. “Are you color blind?”
Jake laughed, and was treated to her smile. Her hair framed her face, and caressed her shoulders in soft, black layers, although her roots looked auburn. Shiny lips, without lipstick, weren’t too full, but nicely shaped. Her top lip turned up a bit, and he wondered if she’d sucked her thumb too long as a child. Her mouth gave her a vulnerable, innocent appearance.
As if anxious to get going, her hip shifted toward the car.
The chilly air had penetrated his double layers, yet he didn’t want to let her go. “You work an odd shift?”
“Two to ten.” She pulled her black, pea-coat style jacket closer and buttoned it. “Not odd for the Grand View Hotel. I’ve worked those hours for years. At first, because I was new and too young to work the overnight shift, so they stuck me with the hours no one else wanted. But I like it, and now that I’m the manager, it’s even better.”
“I guess it’s all what you get used to.”
Not tantalizing conversation, but at least she hadn’t growled like she could take his head off. He stepped around the bumper, closing the distance between them, and leaned a hip against the car.
She flinched.
“I really need to get going in case there’s a line at Flag Lube and Oil.” She ducked her head and climbed into the driver’s seat.
As quickly as the good vibes had come, she snatched them away and left him in the role of intruder. His ears heated. “Oh, sure. Sorry to keep you.” With a backward shuffle, he retreated. “Catch you later.”
She tossed a brief, over the shoulder glance, no smile or a wave, and closed the door.
He stood to the edge of the driveway as she started the car, backed out, and disappeared down the block.
Man, this lady knows how to hold a grudge.
Had it been so terrible? He’d probably made a pass at her, no doubt got a tad physical, and expected her to fall down and lick his…um…boots. He might not remember his exact words or actions, but he remembered her. And he’d liked her.
“Sure glad I can’t recall any of the women I didn’t like and respect.”
His boots scrunching on the layer of ice toping two inches of snow, he trudged across the white lawn, lifted his tools from the truck, and walked back to the door he saw at the rear of the carport. Penny was Mandy’s best friend. Staying here would be a whole lot better if she liked him. He opened the door and found a storage room with enough space for his tools.
Besides, in spite of her attitude, he suspected she’d be worth having as a friend…or something.
****
Penny couldn’t help but glance in her rearview mirror and watch Jake shrink out of sight. He watched her.
Probably thinking what a bitch I am.
She rounded the corner and bumped the heel of her palm on the steering wheel. She had to let old feelings go. Mandy’s brother, not rocker Jake Winters, would be living under the same roof with her for who knew how long.
Grow up, Ji…Penny.
She shivered. It had taken a couple of years to stop thinking of herself as Jianna. Why would she have a relapse now?
Damned holidays.
Damned Jake Winters.
The first time she’d heard his band had been a couple of months before fleeing Red Rock. His voice came across the radio, and she’d practically had her first hands off orgasm. Now, here he was, like someone familiar from her past. And she didn’t need to be anywhere near her past this time of year.
Back then, when she’d found out he was Mandy’s brother, it seemed fate had intervened. Had she met Mandy just to pave the way to connect with Jake Winters? What a stupid, romantic notion that had been. The pedestal evaporated with meeting him.
She turned east on Route 66 and slowed with the congested traffic. The car’s heater blew full-force, so she loosened the scarf around her neck.
Eggplant. That brought a smile to her face, remembering the descriptive had been her first thought when she’d spotted the car the day she’d bought it. The day she’d fled Nevada and home. She shook her head and turned down the heater. With one word, he’d rattled her and connected with her past.
Now, here he was, looking all gorgeous, acting all recovered and down to earth—and still somehow all mixed up with her memories of the holidays.
He didn’t work at rock star anymore. He didn’t remember what had happened the night they’d met anyway. He was her best friend’s brother, and she, at least temporarily, had to find a way to get along with him. So what if a mere glance from him undid her.
Come on, Penny.
She slapped the steering wheel.
Get over it.
****
Vince stared at the report on his desk. He’d pushed the paper aside, hoping it would disappear under a stack of more urgent matters as the morning wore on. But every time he shuffled through the open cases he worked, the sheet of paper would turn up, the name Jianna Ricci glaringly obvious. He glanced out the window to the hazy winter sky. The dirty white clouds blurred as a memory of the Ricci family came in to focus. The boy shouldn’t have been home that time of day. Jianna had originally been targeted right along with the parents, in spite of only being a teenager—but a teen with exceptional intellect who worked at the company. She’d be a thirty-year-old woman now.
A crow flitted past the upper corner of the window. He rubbed his face, digging his thumb and finger into his eyes to reach a deep-seated fatigue.
Finding dirt on opponents, uncovering weak spots on other equally ambitious politicians, greasing the pockets of dishonest corporate movers and shakers, and using his resources at the FBI for illegal purposes meant nothing. He considered the activities…a game he enjoyed.
And murder? Hadn’t mattered thirteen years ago.
He touched the photo of his wife. “Sorry, Brita.” When she died, his life, any life, had lost all significance. Back then, he’d sold his soul to the devil in the body of a CEO. Now, the man was a senator, and there was no absolution to be found. So be it. He’d done Westingly’s bidding without thinking, as if some other force drove his body, taking him along for the ride. So many years ago.
Hell bound for sure, yet he just didn’t have the stomach for murder anymore.
Westingly would. He’d orchestrated each person’s demise—first the whistleblower, Angie Blanton, then the Riccis, and finally the two accomplices from his days as CEO—and required a play by play once completed. This would be no different—the Ricci girl would not be allowed to slip away even if she’d given no indication of outing the senator. The man had a psychotic bent Vince had to fear.
How much could she know anyway? Yeah, she’d been an intern working with controller assistant and whistle blower Angie Blanton. The Ricci girl was purported to be some kind of genius or something. But Blanton’s whistle had been silenced before it sounded. And even as the daughter of Senior Legal Counsel and VP Larenz Ricci, Jianna had been a kid at the time.
Yet…could he afford not to notify the senator? If the Ricci woman knows something and should come forward with accusations about CEO Westingly when he managed the nuclear waste division of Westingly Inc., all the billions bilked from government contracts wouldn’t buy him the presidency. And Vince would find himself at the bottom of Roosevelt Lake.
He growled in resignation. He’d worked for Clyde Westingly long enough to know what would happen when he told him the last Ricci had been found. The young woman would become number seven on his kill list.