“Fuck that. I don’t do stakeouts. I need food. I missed lunch. Let’s roll,” Tex said in a voice you didn’t want to argue with.
Indy took us to the Einstein’s Bagels on Alameda. Tex got an onion bagel with turkey, sprouts and cream cheese, a bag of chips, a huge cookie and a Rice Krispie treat. Indy and I got Diet Cokes. We sat at a table so Tex could eat.
“You got any more ideas?” Tex asked me, his mouth full.
I shook my head.
He turned to Indy.
“You were more fun.”
I’d heard snatches of conversation about Indy’s drama, but never the full story. Since I’d shared my life story, I thought it would only be fair to ask hers. The time was right, Tex had a mountain of food to get through and so I asked.
She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t have anything to hide. She told me the whole thing, with Tex interjecting every once in awhile. He’d been more than a bit player in her drama. He’d gotten himself shot while protecting her (which explained the sling he wore when I first met him).
They’d only known each other a few weeks longer than I’d known them, which was surprising. I thought they’d known each other for years.
After she was done, I didn’t know what to say. Her story made Slick and his knife seem tame. Then again, she had Lee and his army of hotties backing her up.
Tex wiped his mouth with a paper napkin and threw it on the table. “I gotta go home, play with the cats.”
Tex was a kind of nutcase renaissance man: by day a coffee genius, by night a cat sitter. Apparently, he always had dozens of cats coming and going at his house. According to him, sometimes, if he didn’t like the feel of the cat’s owner, he wouldn’t let them have it back. I didn’t find this surprising, not a lot of people would argue with Tex, even if he was essentially stealing your cat.
We all got up when I noticed Tex tense and look behind me.
I turned and saw two men I’d never seen in my life standing there. They looked like they’d seen the movie Reservoir Dogs and decided to base their wardrobe on it. Both slim, both dark-headed, both wearing black suits, thin black ties and white shirts.
“You lookin’ for Ray McAlister?” The taller of the two asked Tex.
Oh no.
This just got worse and worse.
Who were these guys?
“What’s it to you?” Tex answered, obviously not feeling the need to be gracious and polite.
They looked at each other.
I was closest to them and Tex grabbed hold of my t-shirt and pulled me backwards to the side and put himself between the bad guys and me.
“There’s no need to get testy, we just asked you a question,” the shorter of the two said to Tex, trying diplomacy.
“Yeah, we’re lookin’ for him. These two are Girl Scouts and he owes them cookie money,” Tex said, not feeling diplomatic.
They looked at each other again.
“I’m not sure we like your attitude,” the taller man said.
Tex stared at him.
“What’s the deal with you? You got two bodies and one brain?”
It was like Tex wanted them to get angry.
If that’s what he wanted, he got it.
The taller guy stepped closer.
“Fuck you.”
Uh-oh.
“Fuck you back,” Tex said.
Eek!
“Tex,” Indy said, sidling over to me and pulling me away, “let’s go.”
The Reservoir Dogs men weren’t done with us.
“You find McAlister, tell him Louie and Vince want to talk to him,” the shorter one said.
“You find him, you tell him Tex wants to talk to him, but first, Lee Nightingale wants to talk to him,” Tex said.
They looked at each other again, then they looked at Indy.
“Thought I recognized you,” the taller one said.
“Get your fuckin’ eyes off her.” Tex got in between them and Indy and me, which put him dangerously close to the taller guy.
“Back off, old man. And tell Nightingale to keep his fuckin’ nose out of this. Those friends of his too, the wetback cop and the fuckin’ dealer.”
Looking back, perhaps I should maybe have counted to ten.
Then again, until recently, I’d been mild-mannered and boring, so who would have ever guessed I would have lost my mind like I did. Though, words like the “N-word”, “raghead”, “wetback” and the like always set my teeth on edge, so I guess my reaction to them calling Eddie one of those words wasn’t that surprising.
I launched myself at the tall guy. I must have taken him off guard because he staggered back and we both went down amongst the tables at Einstein’s.
I landed on top of him and he went “Oof!” and I’m pretty sure I knocked the wind out of him. This was to my good fortune because in any other circumstance, he could have probably kicked my ass.
I took advantage and we were rolling around, a tangle of limbs. I heard shouting and we rolled into and upset a bunch of tables. I think Tex got into it with the shorter guy because I heard a scuffle but couldn’t pay that much attention because my guy got his wind back and began to kick my ass.
I heard Indy shout, “Knee him in the nuts!”
This sounded like a good plan, I found my opening, and pulled my knee up with all my strength and connected, solidly.
My guy made a noise that made even me feel sorry for him. I was lifted up by my waist, set on my feet and then I heard Tex shout, “Run!”
We hightailed it to the Beetle and Indy peeled out of the parking lot but we could see a cop car, sirens blaring, approaching the light at the corner of Alameda and Logan.
Indy didn’t even slow down.
We went back to Fortnum’s, which was only a few blocks away. Without a word, we all got out of the car and walked in the store.
Duke and Jane both looked up when we walked in. Duke’s eyes narrowed. Jane started to smile.
“If anyone asks, we’ve been here all day,” Indy said immediately.
Duke dropped his head in his hand.
“If you want to go with that story, you might want to brush the potato chips out of Jet’s hair,” Jane remarked.
My hand flew to my hair. I’d lost my ponytail holder and so I ran my hands through it. Chips flew out everywhere.
“I’ll get the broom,” Indy said.
“You might also want to wipe that… is it cream cheese? off your shirt too,” Jane suggested.
I stared down at my shirt.
Tex’s hand settled on my head.
“Now that’s more like it, Loopy Loo,” he said.
Dear Lord.
Chapter Seven
My Date with Eddie
When it seemed the coast was clear and Fortnum’s wasn’t going to be raided by a SWAT team in search of the perps who trashed an Einstein’s Bagels, Indy took me to her house.
She’d given me a grilling about my wardrobe and decided nothing I had would do. She called Ally into the Killer Eddie Date Outfit Search. Ally bagged up some of her clothes and accessories and we all descended on Indy’s duplex.
I tried on one hundred thousand outfits before we settled on something. Nice, but not too nice. Sexy, but not obvious. Cool, but not trying to be cool.
It included Ally’s green, wraparound top that showed a bit of cleavage, was super tight everywhere and the sleeves were way long and had a little hole in them that hooked on your thumb. This topped a pair of Indy’s jeans that were faded enough not to look like I was being dressy but also not too grungy. We added a bunch of Indy’s silver bangles on my wrist, worn over the fabric of the top and some big, dangly earrings of Ally’s. The kicker was a pair of strappy green sandals that were so sexy, Smithie would have let me break the color code for shoes at work. These were borrowed from Indy’s next-door neighbor who was Denver’s top drag queen. Luckily, he had small feet (or I liked to think that way, not that my feet were large).
Ally took me home and, as usual, I was runnin
g late. I’d need a decade to prepare myself to be a suitable date to Eddie’s lusciousness. I needed an hour just to get ready for Smithie’s. I had forty-five minutes to get ready for Eddie.
I was in my room, finishing my hair when the buzzer went and panic seized me.
“I’ll get it,” Mom shouted.
At the thought of Mom letting Eddie in, panic dissolved into nearly uncontrolled hysteria.
“Tell him I’m running late,” I shouted back.
“Good girl, keep him waiting,” Mom encouraged.
My mother.
I rushed through the final touches, nearly forgot the bangles and went into a mini-freak out when I couldn’t find a suitable purse. I had a full mental conversation convincing myself that guys didn’t notice purses when a knock sounded at my door.
“Eddie’s waiting,” Mom shouted through the door, obviously thinking that Eddie’d waited long enough.
“Coming!” I yelled back.
I got over the purse trauma, grabbed the one I normally used and rushed to the door when I heard the buzzer go again.
“I’ll get it,” Mom shouted, outside my door.
Who in the hell?
I walked out and Eddie was lounging in the living room. Jeans had been a good call. He looked no different than normal. Long-sleeved, black, thermal tee, worn jeans, black cowboy boots and a black belt with a silver buckle.
No matter how casual he was dressed, he could have been in a magazine.
His eyes changed when he saw me and he came out of his chair.
“Hi,” I said and just stopped myself from slapping my forehead as it came out breathy, like I’d just run a race.
He didn’t say anything, he just smiled.
My insides curled.
“Look who’s here!” Mom called, wheeling in using her foot with Trixie behind her, carrying an overnight bag.
I stared.
Then Trixie started speaking. “I thought to myself, ‘Self? What are you gonna do on a boring Thursday night?’ and I answered myself, ‘You’re gonna have a sleepover with your good friend Nancy.’ So here I am,” Trixie said, as if she had sleepovers with Mom all the time (which she did not). “You must be Eddie,” She dropped the bag and smiled at Eddie.
Could they be more obvious?
Eddie’s smile didn’t falter.
“Eddie, this is my Mom’s best friend Trixie. Trixie, this is, um… Eddie.”
I kinda wished Slick would’ve broken in at that moment and knifed me, such was my desire for someone to kill me and put me out of my misery.
Eddie greeted Trixie and before it could get any more out of hand, I nearly ran across the room and grabbed Eddie’s hand.
“I was running late so we have to go,” I said.
I tugged Eddie’s hand and luckily he moved with me towards the front door.
“Don’t worry about us, we’ll be just fine.” Trixie followed us to the front door.
I threw a look over my shoulder which should have turned her to stone. She just smiled at me.
“Stay out as long as you like,” Mom shouted from the living room.
“Thanks Mom,” I shouted back, stopped at the door and looked at Trixie. “You’ll take care of her?” I asked quietly.
“Do you need to ask?” Trixie was just as quiet.
“I can hear you!” Mom shouted.
I was pretty certain I heard Eddie chuckle.
Wonderful.
I kissed Trixie’s cheek, shouted good-bye to Mom and pulled Eddie down the hall.
We were out the front door of the building when Eddie said, “That was fun.”
I didn’t answer and I slowed from my onward charge. Now that I got him away from Mom and Trixie, I wanted to drag my feet.
Eddie took over and guided me toward his truck. At the passenger door, instead of opening it, he turned to me but he didn’t say anything.
I waited.
Then I said, “What?”
He pushed me against the truck, his body came up against mine and he kissed me, full-on tongue. When he lifted his head, he had an arm wrapped around the middle of my back, his fingertips resting nearly at the side of my breast and the other hand resting on my hip.
“What was that?”
Dammit, I was breathy again.
“Just wanted to say I like what you’re wearing.”
“You could have just said it.”
“Preferred to show it.”
I had to admit, I preferred it too.
He let me go, pulled me aside, opened the door and helped me in.
It took me some time to pull myself together as we drove the streets of Denver.
Finally, I said, “Sorry to say this but I should be home early. Slick’s out there and Mom and Trixie are all by themselves.”
“I pulled in a favor. A squad car is going to do a regular round of drive-bys,” Eddie replied.
Something about Eddie doing that made me feel pleasantly strange. It wasn’t a feeling I’d ever had before, but it was nice.
“How will they know if something’s wrong?” I asked.
“They’re gonna make an excuse and buzz up,” Eddie answered.
“They won’t say…” I started to worry.
“Relax, Jet. I told them to be cool.”
I didn’t know what to say. So I settled on simple, “Thank you.”
He didn’t respond.
The next thing I knew, we were pulling into his alley. Eddie hit the button on a garage door opener that was attached to his sun visor and we pulled into the garage at the back of his house.
“Did you forget something?” I asked.
“Nope,” Eddie answered, setting the brake and turning off the truck.
I sat perfectly still in my seat.
“What are we doing here?” I asked.
“We’re havin’ dinner,” he said, angling out of the truck.
I watched him walk around the front and come to my side.
Having dinner?
At Eddie’s house?
I didn’t know how to process this. Dates usually didn’t take place at someone’s house. Well, not first dates. I’d known Eddie awhile and he’d been in a fight for me, spent the night at my house, we’d made out a couple of times and I’d slept in his bed, but this was still a first date.
I threw open my door and jumped down.
When I cleared it, Eddie pushed my door shut, grabbed my hand and tugged me along behind him.
“Are you going to make dinner for me?” I asked his back.
“No.”
“Are we ordering pizza?”
He opened the backdoor and we went into the kitchen.
“My Mom cooked for you,” he said.
I stood just inside the door and stared at him.
“Your Mom… cooked… for me?” I stammered.
He pulled me into the room, closed the door and maneuvered me so my hips were against the counter, his hands were on them and he was close. “Yeah. She called today. She wanted me to come over tonight and I told her I had plans. She asked about you, I told her and she decided to cook dinner for you.”
I blinked at him. “What did you tell her about me?”
He came closer, so much closer that I had to tilt my head way back to look up at him. He bent his neck so his face was close to mine.
“I told her you were a pretty blonde with a great smile who’s workin’ two jobs and takin’ care of her disabled mother at the same time.”
My body got tense. I had an uncomfortable feeling that this was a pity dinner, maybe in more ways than one.
He felt me tense.
“Steady there, Chiquita. Mamá just knows you’re workin’ hard and you need a quiet night. After followin’ you around for a couple of days, I need a quiet night too. That’s all this is, she was tryin’ to be nice.”
“I don’t like people knowing about me,” I told him, my body still stiff as a board.
“I already got that.”
We were at a standoff an
d just staring at each other.
Then I smelled him and I started to slip into an Eddie Daze. My body began to relax and then it began to tingle.
“I’m hungry,” I told him, trying to shake the “Daze”.
His hand came to my jaw and his eyes got warm.
“Me too.”
He wasn’t talking about food and my belly began to feel funny.
“We should eat,” I said.
His lips turned up at the corners and his eyes dropped to my mouth.
“Yeah, we should eat.” His voice was low and kind of hoarse and I wondered what he was thinking about eating.
I slid out from in front of him and took a mental deep breath.
“What can I do to help?” I asked, trying to sound bright and cheery.
He smiled at me, he knew exactly how he affected me and I found it perversely attractive and annoying.
He opened the wine and told me where the plates were.
His Mom had cooked homemade tamales, Spanish rice, refried beans and made a salad. The rice and beans were in a divided crock pot, the salad in the fridge and the tamales staying warm in the oven.
We piled up our plates and went to the dining room.
Eddie lived in a one-storey bungalow in Platte Park. I hadn’t taken much in the last time I was there and the night before I’d waited (more like dozed) in the truck while he packed a bag.
When he flipped the light switch I saw it was living room up front with a gorgeous tiled fireplace and a couch and armchair both built less for decoration and more for roominess, comfort and durability. To the left were two bedrooms, separated by a bath and a small hall. The floors were hardwood and looked like they’d recently been redone. The walls were painted a warm sage. There were no decorative touches, pictures on the wall or fancy furniture. Just a thick rug in front of the couch with a coffee table on it.
The living room led into a dining area with a beat-up wood table and ladder-back chairs, a bay window and a built-in hutch with mirrored back and glass-fronted doors. There was nothing in the hutch.
I stared at the dining room table.
Eddie did too and then he said something in Spanish that sounded half annoyed, half amused.
It had been laid with place mats, silverware, napkins and candles. I didn’t think Eddie was the type of guy who owned cloth napkins or candles and I began to wonder about the “pity” part of his Mom’s dinner. I started to wonder more if Eddie’s Mom was kind of like mine.